


Into the real world

by Wriorem



Category: Once Upon a Time RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1545590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wriorem/pseuds/Wriorem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of struggling, love and lust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely and very patient beta :)

Steveston's biting winds got colder by the second. Emilie de Ravin squeezed her body-length moncler tighter around her as she fought the morning chill, trying to melt into the corner made by two buildings, and hide from the wind. Her teeth were chattering like crazy and she didn't know how she'd manage not to tremble like a leaf in a storm during filming. Jeez, her nails were blue and that wasn't from the polish. 

  
Suddenly, a fuming venti Starbucks cup was pushed between her hands. She heard and felt more than she saw a body settle down next to hers.  
"God, my saviour !" She sipped at it gratefully.  
"Was the first customer." The rough Scottish accent was music to her ears.  
"Hello Bobby."  
"Hello Angel."

  
She turned and looked up at him. He wasn't brushed, nor dressed. Robert Carlyle dipped his face one second to light up a cigarette and he grinned sideways at Emilie.  
"What time are you scheduled at ?" she asked.  
"6 am for the makeup," he answered.  
"You're the imp today."  
"Yeah but just this morning. In the afternoon, I'm Gold."  
"We're not filming together."  
They both knew it already, but having it confirmed was painful for both. He grunted in answer.  
"We can still text each other..." she suggested.  
"Will do." Bobby chuckled a little and observed Emilie who took a long sip of her coffee. His eyes fixated on the elegant column of her throat and he smiled appreciatively. "Angel..?"

  
Emilie glanced at him expectantly and after looking around to see if anyone paid any attention to them - fortunately, Robert Carlyle having a smoke and Emilie de Ravin drinking coffee wasn't worth noticing. He took the paperboard cup and sipped from it too, the little hole in the lid making sure he had to put his lips where she had put hers. The Japanese considered this a kiss, the only one he was allowed to bestow her, actually. Guilt coiled in his chest before he violently crushed it. After all he wasn't Japanese, and in his Scottish mind, as long as his tongue wasn't in her mouth and spit wasn't exchanged, it wasn't a kiss.  
 

  
He gave her the cup back, savouring the coffee in his mouth, searching for her taste in it. Bobby couldn't wait for the next kiss between Rumpelstiltskin and Belle, and if he had his way, those kisses would actually be kisses and not pecks. The director said their chemistry was too strong to allow open-mouthed kisses, but there never was too much chemistry between lovers - actors playing lovers. He drew angrily on his cigarette, and realised Emilie was talking to him. He raised his eyebrows, looking lost.  
"You so weren't listening to me, right ?" she asked, a mocking smirk on her delightful lips.  
"No. I was... thinking."  
"You certainly looked lost in your thoughts."  
"Yeah."  
Emilie touched his arm and slid her hand down his forearm to his hand. Robert grabbed hers, and squeezed it tight, interlacing their fingers for a second before letting go. She looked at him quizzically, and he whispered a quiet apology. Pity tainted her eyes and anger burned his guts.  
"Bobby" she whispered.  
"What?"  
"Don't be a Scottish ass."  
His nostrils flared. "Don't be an Australian cocktease."  
"Sorry... I didn't mean to."  
"Yeah I know." He cut her off, unable to bear her apologizing for his yearning. He threw the butt of his cig on the ground before taking another one.  
Emilie frowned and took it before he could light it.  
"What the fuck ?" he asked furiously.  
"You poisoned my air once ; I'm not going to let you do it twice," she said, her expression every bit of Belle's and Bobby felt the Mr. Gold in him raise his head in acknowledgement.

Fucking fools, his character and him, at the mercy of a slip of a girl. He didn't understand what had happened to him. He had never clicked so strongly with a coworker before. Professionally, their love story was a success, wetting fangirls all over the world. Personally, it was... complicated. 

  
The both realised the potential between them. They both knew that if they were available, they'd be together. But they were unavailable, both of them, and so their friendship, deep and total, was stretched to its maximum. 

  
Emilie hid the cigarette in her back jeans pocket, and he didn't reach out to take it back.  
"You're not in a good mood." she said patiently.  
"No," he confirmed. He watched her take a sip of coffee, an excited thrill going down his spine when her mouth covered the place where his had been. He stared as her bottom lip curled around the lid. He remembered their kiss, sucking on her bottom lip before she took over and bit his. This memory sent another chill down his back, straight to his groin, and he groaned.  
"Why not ?" Emilie asked.  
Bobby didn't answer, seeing her private assistant coming over.  
"Emilie ?" the guy said.  
"Yes, Jamie ?"  
"It's time for your make-up." 

  
James - Jamie - was a cute boy, curly blond hair, clear blue eyes, and a professional seducer. Robert hated him with all the atoms of his body. He hated the boy's way of being polite, he hated the way girls reacted to him, and most of all, he hated the way Emilie was nice to him. In one word, he was jealous.  
"Mr Carlyle ?" Jamie said respectfully.  
"What ?" His answer was brutal, rough and made the boy uneasy, good.  
"The clothing department told me they had fitted your leather waistcoat and to ask if you could come and try it. You know, as you..."

  
Robert finished the sentence mentally : _took on some weight._

  
Bobby seethed, and grunted a yes. Jamie saluted them both and went on his way.  
"Did you have to be so rude ?" Emilie asked.  
"I wasn't-"  
"Yes you were !" She pinched his side and he doubled over, squeaking in a girlish way.  
Emilie burst out laughing and he was mesmerized by the gorgeous sight. She smiled tenderly at him. "See you later, Bobby."  
"My trailer or yours ?" She seemed confused and he added " You know, lunch ?  
"Oh !" She thought for a second. "Yours."  
He nodded and waved her off. The second she was gone, he took another cigarette out and lit it. He took fast drags to calm his nerves and body down. He had no right to be angry at her, she was his friend and it wasn't her fault he felt more than friendship for her. He hoped she was feeling the same - he thought she did. Sometimes she looked at him with an unmatched intensity but Emilie behaved in this typical flirty way with nearly everyone. Fucking Australian, all about confusion and breathing hot and cold and he couldn't stand being treated like she did anyone else. He was her main coworker, her best friend on set, he deserved more than her "usual". He wanted to be worshipped by her like he'd worship her if he could. They had fun and it got complicated.  

  
The highlight of his day was private lunch in one of their trailers. In Emilie's, they watched TV and ate sitting on her couch, side by side. In his, they listened to music and sat at the table, facing each other. 

  
He pushed himself off the wall and made his way toward the clothing department.  It was boring, Eduardo said nothing, but scowled at him behind his back.  
Robert saw it in the mirror and growled. "I'm trying to stop smoking for fuck sake !"  
"Well, considering the smell on your clothes and hands, I think it's an epic fail," the tailor commented.  
"Go fuck yourself !"

  
Castro grunted a laugh and quickly finished his fitting. "Okay, you're free, Bobby." He stared for a second at the clenched jaw of the Scotsman. "You.. okay ? Trouble at home ?"  
Robert burst out laughing and removed the silk shirt before putting his polo back on.  
"No, no," Eduardo said, placing leather pants, and a brown shirt in his arms. "Go put those on. The boots are waiting for you."

  
\----------------------------------------------

  
Everyone seemed to sense Carlyle was in a bad mood that morning. His own PA, Patrick, kept wisely everyone out and acted as a mediator between him and the world. They were filming in the woods around Steveston, to fake the fairytale land's infinite forest.

  
He made an effort for his fellow actors and his acting was perfect - every manic grin flawless, every hand flourish spot-on. But as soon as the director yelled "cut", Robert became gloomy. Until Lana Parrilla grabbed him by the shoulder, pulled him behind a tree and glared at him, crossing her arms.  
"What is happening ?" she demanded, her stance reminding him of Regina.  
"Leave me the fuck alone !" 

  
He tried passing by her, but Lana pushed him backward. At that moment, he would have killed for a cigarette, but Rumplestiltskin's tight leather pants didn't allow him to carry one around.  
"For fuck sake, Lana, give me a cig or I'm gonna explode !"  
She raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "Where do you think I can hide them in this dress ?"  
"Fuck !" He kicked a tree and she shook her head, a tssss sound escaping her red lips.  
"Okay, Bobby, what's wrong ?" Lana asked again, her voice sterner.  
"Everything's fine."  
"Is this about Emilie ?"  
His head snapped toward her faster than lighting, a pang in his chest, yearning in his soul, his sight blurry suddenly from rising tears.  
"Leave me the fuck alone !" he snarled at her.  
"Bobby..." Lana laid a soothing hand on his arm. "Talk to me. I know there's something between you and Emilie, and today, it's eating at you. Everybody sees friendship but I know you, you're like my brother. And I can see your feelings, Bobby. You're not hiding them today. So what's happening ?"

  
Robert couldn't tell her. He couldn't admit it. Admitting it would hurt too much, it would question his own happiness, his belonging to his family. But Lana was bluntness embodied.  
"Are you in love with her ?"  
"No !"

  
Lana cocked an eyebrow, giving him the face of 'duh'.  
"I'm not !" he protested. "Not... not..." She patiently waited for him to finish his thought. "Not totally."  
"More than friendship ?"  
"Less than love !" he finished angrily.

  
Lana looked at him sheepishly. "I'm so sorry, Bobby. Has anything ever happened ?"  
"No."  
"Do you want something to happen ?"

  
He sneered. Deep inside, he wanted to. He was a man, and he was not blind. Emilie wasn't Belle for nothing. She was lovely. She was joyful, and smart. And totally friendly and flirtly. And he wanted to fuck her and make her yell. He wanted to melt into her. He was full of confusing feelings he had only ever had for his wife before, and it messed his head up.  
"I think that's a yes, Bobby. You do want her." she said in a matter of fact voice.  
"Shut the fuck up !"  
"Oooh drop the grumpy Scottish act." Lana was starting to get annoyed. "So you want to sleep with her. Are you going to do something about it ?"  
"I'm a married man, and she's a married woman."  
"Oh please, you know as well as I marriage ain't a strict no-no."  
Bobby glared at Lana. "Of course it's a big no-no. Marriage vows are sacred. I love my wife, I'd die for my family."  
"Have I said otherwise ? I know your family is important but right now, all I can see is that you're miserable." He stared at her. "Marriage may be sacred, Bobby, but fucking her would get her out of your system."  
"Are you even for real ? Suggesting I cheat on my wife ?"  
"Define cheating." Lana smirked and Robert felt like slapping her. He settled for an angry gesture toward her. "I guess as long as your cock doesn't say hi to her... great wide somewhere, you're fine."  
"Her great wide somewhere...?" He sighed in derision.  
"Her cunt, Bobby." she said in a suddenly harsh voice.

  
He rubbed his eyes, then dropped his hands when he realised he was probably ruining his make-up.  
"HEY ! BOBBY ! LANA !" The assistant director shouted. "We're wrapping up. Bobby, make-up removal time, You're on as Gold after lunch ! Lana, you're free for the day !"

  
Lana looked pleased and she bent to whisper into Robert's ear. "Think of what I said. Either you flush her out of your system, or you stop playing with fire. No more eating privately in your trailers, no more driving her back, no more playing Prince Charming. Or ask her to stop teasing you. She's as obvious as you are."  
Parrilla moved to walk away.  
"Wait." Bobby's imperious voice froze her to the ground. She turned to him.  
"What ?"  
"What do you mean ?" he asked. "What do you mean she's as obvious as me ?"  
"Well... The way she is around you."  
He frowned and repeated : "The way she is around me ?"  
"Are you blind, Bobby ? Have you seen the way she looks at you ? How you two are always together ? You look like mischievous schoolmates. She acts like you're special."  
"She is this way with everyone."  
Lana's howl of laughter made him jump, then she sobered up when she saw his serious gaze on her. "Oh my god, you mean it !" She sniggered. "Emilie hangs onto your every word, she laughs like a hyena as soon as you open your mouth and when she talks about you, well to put it bluntly, she thinks the sun shines out of your ass." Bobby stared at her silently, wide-eyes."Oh, snap out of it" She punched his shoulder. "You knew that."  
"No."  
"Well believe me, if you have feelings for her, she has feelings for you, you moron."

  
Bobby still looked like his world had crumbled. And it had. Thinking his feelings were unrequited had secured his inaction. Thinking there was any chance his feelings were welcome and returned dissolved any walls he could have put around his heart. "Understand I'm not telling you to cheat on your wife or throw your marriage away for a fuck. Just think that... Jeez. I don't even know how to finish this sentence. Just ask yourself if you're strong enough, if Emilie is worth facing your wife everyday with this secret on your shoulders." Bobby snorted and Lana tilted her head. "Are you already carrying it ?"  
"A bit, yeah."  
Lana hugged him tight. "Just take care of yourself, brother."  
"Yeah."  
She let him go and turned to walk back to the trucks driving them back.  
Robert watched her leave, nausea curling in his guts. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, echoing through his ribs as if it was trying to escape. He was torn between being disgusted at his behaviour and a foolish intense hope. He felt as if his chest was about to implode and wondered if it was possible to have a heart attack from hoping too much. 

  
A car stopped by him, and the driver's window opened showing Patrick's face.  
"Are you coming ? We have a half-hour drive and your make-up artist is waiting for you to remove all your paint"

  
Bobby climbed into the car, and stayed silent during the whole trip, deep in his thoughts. Patrick was used to it. The actor could dive into his imagination for hours. He stared at a point through the window.

  
In his mind's eye, Bobby saw Emilie. He could see her opening her arms to him, taking him in her embrace, kissing him, his body burning, as she pushed him up a wall to be able to stroke his groin in the same time.  
Patrick's voice, announcing they had arrived pulled him out from his mind. Bobby realised with a start his body had reacted to his thoughts.

  
Removing the make-up and clothes took almost one hour, and it was twelve thirty. A discreet look to the day's schedule pinned on the wall of the makeup truck told him Emilie was on break and had been for one hour already. He winced. He needed to see her. They had decided to see each other in his trailer but he didn't care. She was probably in hers, waiting to transport the food to his, like they had done a thousand of times before. 

  
He refused the offer to put on Mr Gold's suit now, and promised to come back earlier than he'd planned to do so. He strode - in what he hoped in a calm and majestic way, hair flapping behind him.

  
Bobby found himself in front of Emilie's trailer much too soon. He was too warm, his polo itched his skin under his fleece jacket. He zipped it up, feeling he was putting on battle armour. He knocked on the door. It came out too hesitant and weak for his tastes and he raised his fist to knock again. However, the door opened and Emilie appeared.  
"Bobby !" She grinned at him like he was the highlight of her day. "God, filming was such a chore without you. I kept texting you but you never answered."  
"I..." Bobby answered in a small voice, his accent thicker than usual. "I.. forgot my phone in my jacket, and it stayed in my locker."

  
She retreated into her trailer, and he followed, feeling choked up. Her smell permeated the air. The trailer was her territory.  
"Josh and Ginny were totally off in their little world," she commented as he closed the door. "Planning their wedding, you know. Ginny's talking about asking Jen to be her witness or first bridesmaid, but it's a big hush around Jen right now, Ginny's not sure. She's considering her sister too,"She rambled on while he kept trying to catch his breath."And you need to be careful to take your phone this afternoon, Mr. Gold has pockets." She took a proper look at him. "Bobby !"  
He jumped, startled. "What ?"  
"You look like a deer caught in the headlights." She advanced on him and before he knew what was happening, she had rested her hand, fresh and soothing like a balm, against his brow. "You look feverish too, but you're not warm."  
Bobby swallowed and took some steps backward, unable to let himself be touched in his state of confusion.  
"Bobby ?"  
He braced himself, and conjured up his 'happy' face, the one all his co-workers knew.  
"So, what did you get us to eat, Em ?" He asked cheerfully, reminding himself he was actually an actor and could perfectly fake any emotions.  
"Cold roast chicken and a potato salad. Ready to go to your trailer ?"  
"Well, I thought we could eat here, rather. We're already here."  
"Sure."  
Emilie walked to the small fridge and set the food on the table. Small cupboards on the other side of the kitchen area contained the silverware. While Emilie was busy with the food, he took care of retrieving everything needed to eat. He bent to locate the plates, and peering on his right at the black screen of the turned off TV, he realised Emilie was gazing at his ass.

  
Fuck, was Lana really right ? Could she be as confused about her feelings as he was about his ?  
"Enjoying the view, Angel ?" he couldn't help asking.  
"When you've got it, you've got to flaunt it. And you're flaunting it alright." she answered with a laugh.  
He straightened, grinned gently at her and laid the kitchenware on the table.  
Bobby smirked. "Oh I forgot the napkins," he said in a voice that said he did it on purpose. "Flaunt your ass, Angel," he added with a tentative flirty grin. He hadn't done anything like that - seduce a woman - in a very long time. He could charm, enthrall anyone, but a real seduction... Not since his wife. Fuck, he thought. 19 years.  
"Are you saying I've got it ?" she countered with a wink. 

  
He felt a pang in his chest and raised his eyebrows. He didn't know how to answer. Before today, he'd have said yes with a dirty smirk and thought no more of it. Now that he knew she might not think of him as any other guy, as more than just another guy, he was... wary. He wanted to... do something about it, but... he wanted to do nothing about it too. He was screwed. Fuck, he'd like to be screwed too.  
"Bobby ?" 

  
His head snapped up.  
"Emilie... I..." His mask deteriorated, letting his real feelings appear. He looked miserable, eyes glinting with feverish longing.  
Emilie frowned, wondering what was happening. "Bobby... You look..." She walked to him, worry etched on her face. "Bobby..." She raised her hand once more and stroked a lock of hair out of his hair. "Darling..."

  
Not really realising the situation, Bobby found himself bending forward, her breath on his face made his head turn, and the impression of falling into a dark pit overwhelmed him.

  
A loud knock on the door made them jump backward. Bobby hit a chair and it fell. The bang helped clear his mind and realised what he had almost done. 

  
Emilie still looked mostly concerned. She grimaced a little, and then went to answer the door.

  
\---------------------------------------------

  
Lana Parrilla ate on set. She preferred eating at the catering tents, no cooking, no washing, and the chicken was delicious. She was currently smoking her after-food cig, one of the best of the day. Earlier, she had seen Bobby walking toward the trailers area, rushing like a guy about to miss his train, or like he had demons pursuing him. Demons of lust, she thought with a sigh. In her opinion, Bobby was hitting his midlife crisis full time. He demonstrated all the signs... Hitting on a younger woman, trying to stop smoking and lose weight, buying a new phone... She had been expecting to see him arrive one morning in a flashy red convertible for months now. She didn't believe he'd actually cheat on his wife with Emilie, she had seen the way he behaved with his family. He was a dragon and his family his treasure. 

  
But then, she realised brutally, she had seen the same possessive protection extended to the younger woman. Lana had also seen the shakes in his hands when he held Emilie in a kissing scene. She had another epiphany : he wasn't acting in the Rumbelle scenes. In the forest, he had seemed really shaken. And right now, he could be not acting a sex scene. She had only meant to tease him, not push him into adultery. Holy shit, what had she done ?

  
And as if this ordeal wasn't enough, she saw Jamie with a plastic bag and the usual envelope with the next episode script walking toward Emilie's trailer.

  
\---------------------------------------------------

  
Emilie opened the door to her trailer and faced Lana, holding up a plastic bag full of fanmail and next episode's script, and looking relieved.  
"Hey ?" Emilie's voice and slight frown clearly asked what she was doing here. 

  
Lana glanced inside and saw Bobby holding onto a chair like his life depended on it and they were both still dressed.  
"Lana ?" Emilie insisted.  
"Sorry, I came to bring you your script and fanmail."  
"Well, thank you."  
"Bobby ?" Lana asked, and he turned toward her. "I think it's time for you to go and dress."  
"But we didn't eat yet !" Emilie protested. She turned to look at Bobby, see if he was about to protest too. However, the Scotsman didn't say anything. He just exited the trailer. He looked up to Emilie, his gaze sliding up her delicious legs.  
"I should go, Em," he confirmed. "It's wiser."

  
Emilie's features displayed disappointment. A flash of lust hit him straight in the loins, and his insides curled with fiery yearning. He tried to mask his hunger - for her and for food.  
"I have my phone, Angel," Bobby commented, stroking the item with the tip of his index finger. "Text me."  
"Will do." 

  
He stared at her until Lana pushed him to the side to give Emilie her fanmail and script. Then Parrilla grabbed his jacket and pulled him away with her.  
"Bobby, what are you doing, for goodness sake ?" she asked, annoyed, and annoying him in the same time.  
"I opened my eyes," he answered with a little grin.  
"Please, tell me you didn't do anything crazy."

  
Bobby didn't answer. Lana bit her bottom lip, looking sorry. "Bobby... I meant to tease you. I thought you were hitting your midlife crisis. If you are, just buy a Jaguar or something. Don't cheat on your wife, just because you can."  
"Cuz I can ? Cuz I fucking can ? Lana ! Don't you see ?"  
"You are... an idiot."  
Bobby paled, then got red with anger. "Ye whit ?" His accent was the thickest Lana had ever heard from him.  
She backed off, hands raised in peace and apology. "I'm sorry. It's your life, I have no right to meddle." After all, Robert Carlyle was one of the nicest guys ever, but his anger was formidable and quite famous and Lana didn't want to experience it. After that, she didn't stay long and drove home as if hell was on her heels. 

  
\--------------------------------------------

  
The afternoon was long. The weather turned cloudy and dark, which made the director grumble because continuity was not perfect. He had phoned the EFX studios who had confirmed they couldn't do miracles. In the end, the shooting was cancelled. And so, at 3 pm, Bobby found himself free for the afternoon. He had his make-up removed, and he changed his clothes once more. 

  
Now that he had had time, he had read the 17 texts Emilie had sent in the morning, and she had sent 5 this afternoon.  
 _"Studio is so boring. Wt u doing?"_  
 _"u shooting ?"_  
 _"ffs, Ginny's rantin about her marriage again. SOS."_  
 _"U angry ?"_  
 _"Bobbyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy"_  
He texted back : _"I'm here, Angel. We cancelled shooting, weather's too shitty. When are you done ?"_  
The response wasn't long to come. _"3 hours left. Then getting out of Belle's gear. Missin U."_  
His heart gave an eager lurch and he typed on the digital keyboard. _"Missing you too."_ He swallowed, considering the answer and added quickly _"A lot..."_ He sent the text before he could change his mind.

  
Guilt appeared as soon as he pressed "send". Fuck, what was he doing ? What was he getting ready to do ? Could he do this ? Could he do this and still look at himself in the mirror ? Would he be satisfied with the reflection ? Could he face his family ?  
Cold sweat rolling down his back made him shiver. His phone beeped and vibrated in his hand, indicating the arrival of a text message. The vibration was like a physical temptation, a siren call, crawling up his arm to his chest and into his heart.  
He looked at the phone screen and checked the time. If he left now, he could pick his kids up at school himself. He smiled, happy at the prospect. The screen also said _'you have a text'._

He pressed the unlocking code and the text appeared.  
 _"Aww Darling, U r sweet..."_  
He typed an answer fast. _"I gonna fetch my kids at school. Leaving the set now."_  
 _"Ok. Drive safe. Have a nice evening w/ the family. xoxoxo"_  
 _"See you tomorrow. XXX"_

  
Robert gathered his keys, and his messenger bag with his scripts inside and he went to his car. When he was there, he froze. He opened the driver door and threw his things inside. He walked back into Steveston and drove to the studios. He parked and went inside to find Emilie. She saw him first.  
"Bobby ? I thought you-"

  
He placed a Starbucks cup in her hands.  
"Why did you come ?" she asked.  
"I wasn't going to but I changed my mind because I realised you must not have had your afternoon coffee, so here it is."  
Emilie stared at him silently before grabbing him by the shoulders and hugging him tight. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight against his body. Holding the cup made it awkward for her to hug him fully, but he did the job for her. Bobby buried his face in her hair and sniffed. Her hair smelled flowery, but he wasn't able to identify the exact scent. He realised people was starting to stare. Their embrace was... tighter than usual. The cast and crew were used to Emilie de Ravin pouncing on people for a hug but it was rarely so intimate. He let go and she kissed his cheek.  
"Thank you." she said.  
"Anytime, Angel."  
They grinned at each other and Bobby left, more light-hearted than he had been in a long time. 

  
\---------------------------------------------

  
The morning after found Robert sitting in his production chair. He was watching technicians set up the rails for the cameras, a cup of coffee in his hand. It was 5:15 am, the sun was not up yet and Steveston was covered in darkness. He was cold. He was frozen. He had a thought for the Starbucks manager opening his shop at 5am every day of filming for them, and mentally thanked the guy. Bobby lit a cigarette, dragging on it with obvious pleasure. His schedule announced a day of filming Gold so no spending unnecessary time in makeup and THAT was a blast. Today was proving itself for now to be a wonderful day. Last night had been great, he had made love to his wife last night, thoroughly and vigorously, and she had woken him up a bit earlier than planned to have another round. He had a great time, even if her brown eyes had been replaced from time to time with blue ones. Those blue eyes had hunted him through his dreams, and he had fallen, a willing prey to them. He had nearly moaned her name instead of his wife's this morning. Now he had coffee warming up the popsicles he called his fingers and he waited for his coworkers.  
"Hey Bob !"  
"Hi Colin." 

  
The two guys waved at each other. Colin was not a morning guy. He looked like a zombie. Bobby chuckled and suddenly arms wrapped around his neck and lips kissed his cheek.  
"Hi sexy ass !" Her voice. He turned and saw Emilie carrying her own chair next to him. 

  
She had a paperboard tray with two coffee cups.  
"Hi Angel..." His voice trailed, and he gave her his most charming grin.  
Emilie settled herself in her chair and crossed her legs. Her Moncler opened and Robert realised with some shock she was dressed in stretch jeans, a plaid loose shirt opened over a white t-shirt. She smiled back and held a cup for him.  
"For your caffeine addiction, darling," she said with a smile, much too dazing for his tastes. "I know you have troubles waking up in the morning," She saw Colin from afar in the catering area, leeching onto the coffee machine. "Must be a celtic thing."  
"Fuck you."  
Emilie laughed. "Are you volunteering ?"  
Bobby blushed but pointed jokingly at her before he realized he couldn't come up with a proper answer. He stayed frozen for a few seconds, then lowered his hand, stroking his inner thigh. Emilie stared at the motion, and her eyes stayed glued to his groin area. She bit her bottom lip and he gave a full body shiver.  
"Aren't you cold ?" he asked, needing to change the topic.  
"No, I'm fine," she replied, finally looking back to his face. "Have your cats ever scratched your wallpapers ?"  
"Yeah of course. Churchill - the black cat - he literally tore the wallpaper in my bedroom off."  
"Well, Stanley did too."  
"In your bedroom ?" he asked with a gulp, not really wanting to think of her bed, but unable to keep himself from imagining her in nightie.  
"No, in the living room."  
"Oh."  
Bobby stayed silent, looking down, still fixated on Emilie in bed in a silk and lace nightgown.  
"Bobby ?"  
"Sorry, I was thinking."  
He was shaken, his cheeks red, eyes shining and when Emilie looked down, she saw his jeans were a bit swollen.  
"Thinking about what ?" Emilie asked. Her finger stroked the back of his hand, the one near his fly.  
Bobby gazed at her, but his look went through her, and she was a bit destabilized.  
"You in bed."  
Emilie opened wide eyes. She opened her mouth to say something but snapped it shut, not to take him out of his thoughts. She kept her hand on his hand.  
He continued talking, his voice empty and his eyes vague. "I was wondering if you were sleeping in lace or in silk ?"  
"Neither."  
Emilie's voice broke through his musings and he looked around, trying to get his grip back on reality. His voice was shocked when he stuttered "Em.. E-Emilie ?"  
She leant toward him and she scratched his palm with her nails before squeezing his hand tight. She whispered in his ear, "I sleep naked."

  
Bobby turned his face to look at Emilie. A roller-coaster had decided to ride his ribs, squeezing his lungs and heart into a tight little ball. He could barely breathe, and all he could see was her two big blue eyes and her victorious smile. He gasped and he made a little sound like a little animal being stepped on. He fell off his chair. He jumped on his feet and looked around wildly to see if anyone had seen. Two technicians were laughing at him and Bobby waved at them with a big grin, acting as normal as he could, considering his erection was at the same height as Emilie's stare. The guys got back to their work after a few seconds.

  
The little ball in his chest was bouncing around his bones. Bobby looked at Emilie, but she kept her eyes where they were.  
"Angel..." he muttered, wanting to draw her attention on his face, but she was mesmerized, and she licked her lips. The sight of her little tongue on her lips snapped whatever control he had left. 

  
Bobby grabbed her hands, and pulled her to her feet. The cups hit the floor, spilling all the coffee around their shoes. Their eyes met and Robert bent down toward Emilie's face. Their breaths mingled before Emilie jumped backward.  
"Not here," she whispered. "Too public."  
"'Kay..." he muttered back, glancing around. "I know where, follow me." 

  
He hooked her arm around his, and started to walk through the streets of Steveston. "What did ya think, being dressed like this ?" he said urgently, his head tilted toward her. "Being dressed like me ? Ya think I wouldn't have noticed ?"  
"I started to wonder if you'd ever notice I was after you, actually." Her smile turned predatory. "I'm glad." She stroked his forearm like she was petting her cat in reward. She was gorgeous. She was... perfect. 

  
He raised his free hand and squeezed, rubbing his finger between two of hers.  
"Emilie," he whispered. "Are you serious ?"  
"Of course. I've wanted you for months."  
Her simple words, her gentle eyes, her luring manners, it made his heart capsize. He laced his fingers with hers and squeezed hard.  
"My Angel," he moaned.  
Emilie graced him with a gentle smile and a squeeze back of his hand. She leant toward him and said "My Darling."  
He pulled her forward faster toward Mr. Gold's shop, and he walked around the building to access the backyard and the backdoor. He pulled his keys out of his pocket. Bobby showed her the key ring, a miniature Stargate and selected a key before inserting it into the keyhole.  
"You naughty boy." Emilie breathed in his ear, plastering herself against his back. "Copying the key ?"  
"We Glasgow guys like having shelters... Look, it _is_ useful right now."  
"We can't turn on the light though."  
"Unless you want an audience," Robert chuckled. "We'll have to stay in the backroom." He wiggled his eyebrows. "In the dark." He looked around quickly as he unlocked the door and pecked her cheek quickly.  
"Careful, Bobby. Who knows if someone's spying ?" she asked teasingly.  
"Wouldn't mind if it was Stanley, and we were in your bed."  
The backdoor opened but neither noticed, they were staring at each other, their breathing rhythm going faster and louder, echoing the rise of lust in their loins.  
"C'mere..." Bobby whispered, pulling Emilie in and he locked the door behind them. 

  
They were alone, their senses inflamed. The lights of the streetlights outlined their figures and basic shapes. She was in his clothing style, it meant she was his. For all he knew, she could have been wearing a t-shirt with 'I wanna fuck Bobby Carlyle' written on it, it was the same to him. His claim was all over her. What made it even better was that she made this claim herself, he didn't have to imprint it on her. 

  
Bobby's mind was burning so much... His control had snapped, his mind was so full of her... He couldn't think of anything else.  
Emilie was looking around, so he grabbed her wrist and pulled her roughly to him, interlacing the fingers of their two hands together.  
"Emilie..." he muttered, needing to know. "You sure about this ?"  
"Yes. Are y-"

  
His mouth covered hers. He couldn't let her finish her question because he didn't want to answer, or even think about his answer. Robert grabbed the lapels of her moncler and slid it off her shoulders. It fell on the floor behind her in a heap, disturbing the silence between each of their shuddering breaths. He broke off the kiss, and his hands ran down her back to her ass.  
"Turn around," he ordered softly, kneading her soft flesh. 

  
Emilie rubbed her body against Bobby's as she did. He grabbed her hips and let her feel how aroused he was.  
"Sweetheart," he rumbled in her ear, his accent thick.  
She pressed herself against him and he grunted in answer "Oh fuck !"  
"About to," she answered with a dirty smirk. "Remove your coat."  
Robert shouldered off his coat, and threw it on the floor too. She reached backward and stroked his sides.  
"My god, you're so sexy," Emilie whispered.  
He moved his body against hers, rubbing his clothed cock against her ass. "Angel..." he gasped. "Please..."  
"Yes... yes..." Her hands pressed him against her harder. His grip on her waist tightened, bordering on pain. She could hear him muttering her name over and over, but through a haze of lust, she noticed he was totally still.

  
Emilie thrusted backward, making his cock rub between her buttocks. His answering hiss ended up in a loud moan and he raised his hands to his mouth to blow warm air on them. He slipped them under her t-shirt and she whimpered when his cold skin met hers.  
"I'm sorry, my Angel." He started to remove them but she grabbed his hands.  
"No... Keep them here." She placed his hands against her stomach.

  
He felt her abdomen move under his palms, and he bent his head, nuzzling her shirt. He started to rub against her ass again, the feeling unfamiliar and pleasure muted. He gave a sharper thrust, rewarded by a bigger flash of pleasure striking his loins. Bobby gasped again, though nuzzling her shoulder wasn't enough anymore. He needed the taste. He bit her flesh and growled when he didn't have her skin under his tongue, but rather her clothes. One of his hand trailed up to her bra and the other downwards. Still rubbing against her, he deftly unbuttoned her fly and slipped his hand inside. He encountered lace and he groaned. The tip of his fingers drew little circles on the skin just over the elastic band of her panties.

  
Emilie moaned loudly and she turned her head to try catching his lips but his eyes were closed tight and he was still biting her shirt. She kissed the side of his nose and he grinned, tilting his head toward her instinctively.  
"Can A ?" he asked.  
"Please..." she moaned, pressing into him, and felt him jerk against her and released a fast breath against her neck.  
Bobby made a grunting note in answer and his hand dove into her panties. He found her slippery and wet against his fingers. Rocking against her was wonderful. He had found the good strength to pleasure himself just right. In one hand, he had her breast, her nipple pebbled in his palm, and his other one was between her legs, two fingers wriggling into her and his thumb stroking the side of her clit. His ears were full of her moans, his nose and mouth full of her. 

  
He rocked against her faster, panting against her skin through her clothes. Emilie opened her legs wider to ease his access to her. She twitched against, thrusting back into his groin and forward onto his fingers. She leant the back of her head against his shoulder, leaning into him.  
"Oh... god... oh..." She moaned loud, nuzzling her cheek to his. She squeezed her fist into his shirt to try to melt him into her.  
"Eith, my Aungel, easy," he whispered, "lat me... A gaun'ae mak it guid for ye..."  
Emilie didn't understand a word of what he had just said but his passionate tone was enough for her insides to explode with pleasure. The back of her eyeslids sparkled with fireworks and she slumped against him.

  
Bobby felt her walls clench around his fingers, squeezing them tight and he removed them slowly, cupping as much of her juices as he could. He let go of her and brought his hand to his mouth to suck his fingers clean.

  
Emilie turned toward him and her eyes dilated more, nearly a total black with barely a ring of blue around. She grabbed his hand with a possessive grasp and brought it to her mouth. Her tongue darted out of her mouth and finished licking his fingers clean. His expression turned dark and a muscle twitched in his cheek. He was frustrated. He was full of lust.  
Emilie grabbed Bobby, pulled him against her and kissed him hard, their tongue mingling together. Bobby wrapped her in his arms and advanced, backing her against the table. He hooked her left leg on his hip and started dryhumping her again. He kissed her hard, sucking on her bottom lip, moaning her name against her lips.  
She wasn't inactive, she was running her hands on his back down to his ass, slipping them between their bodies to try to unbutton his shirt.

  
Robert smirked and bit her bottom lip. "Slowly," he murmured.

  
She pinched one of his nipples in answer and pulled him in for another deep kiss, her tongue in his mouth.  
His hips started to thrust erratically. He was close, and it felt wonderful. Bobby didn't have a lot of brain left, he wasn't in control, he wasn't able to play with her body like a guitar, he just could feel the pleasure building, his balls tightening, a whip coiling in his guts, and his thoughts were slowling becoming hazier and hazier, and all he could feel was this yearning for more, more, moremoremoremore...

  
But instead of the explosion he longed for, he felt her push him away. He opened his eyes, feeling betrayed, and he snarled at Emilie. She smirked at him and pushed him hard backward.

  
The back of his knees hit the edge of the cot and he fell, his back hitting painfully the wall. He didn't register the pain, and if he did, it only gave his pleasure a sharper edge. He hissed.  
Emilie grabbed Bobby by the front of his clothes and dragged him down to lay on the cot on his back. "You're perfect," she whispered. "Golden and perfect..."  
He chuckled at the description and raised his hands to cup her breasts. His appreciation of them showed on his face and he sat up to take a kiss from her delightful lips.  
Emilie pushed him down and leaned on his shoulders to keep him from moving. Once she was satisfied with his passivity, she started to unbutton his shirt. The dark blue shirt gave way to pale hairless skin. It reminded her of a canvas ready to be painted on. It made her hungry.

  
Bobby was tense under her, hoping against hope she wasn't comparing his body to the one of her exes. His body was the body of a mature skinny man trying to stop smoking and who has recently gone from thin to not so thin. He wasn't much to start with and time may have made him distinguished but also raised some complexes in his mind. He could feel his orgasm going further and further. He wanted the feeling back and fall over the edge with her, so he tried to relax.

  
She caressed his chest, biting her bottom lip, the lust unmistakable in her eyes. She flattened her hands on his pecs and tweaked his nipple. "Stay with me, don't lose yourself in your head," she said, bending to kiss him once more. She straightened, keeping him down when he tried to follow to kiss her again, and moved over him.  She rocked on top of him, their center rubbing hard against each other.

  
He hissed and jerked under her, thrusting back with enthousiasm. After a few minutes of this, Bobby held her hips and ground her onto him. He was nearly there, just a few little rubs and he'd be freed from the pit of sexual frustration he was currently chained in. And he realised she wasn't moving anymore. Was Emilie denying him his orgasm on purpose ?

  
Bobby made a move to flip them over to finally thrust until completion, but she held her ground. He growled but she ignored him. Emilie soothingly pet his lower belly before starting to work on his belt. Robert froze under her and let her do what she wanted with him. She opened his button and fly, exposing dark red underpants. She flashed a naughty grin and wink too and lowered the stretch material, exposing his hard cock. She made sure it wasn't about to snap back on him by putting the material under his balls.

  
Emilie wrapped her hand around him and slid the foreskin back, exposing a red-purplish tip. It looked luscious to her and her mouth watered. She slid backward, sitting on his calves and bent over. Her lips closed around the tip of him, and she explored it with her tongue, circling it, giving it playful little licks and tracing letters over it. He had a pleasant taste, slightly salty and musky. Under her, Bobby's body and mind were on fire.

  
He was staring at her, hands squeezing the cot sheet. His body shivered, and he was doing his utmost not to thrust into her mouth. He felt her hand close around his length starting at the base, her breath falling on his groin and balls. His gasps and pants were the only noise in the room and he found himself biting his fist not to shout.  
He felt himself about to cum.

  
"Em... Angel..." He choked on his words.

  
Emilie understood he was there, and released him. The tip of his cock glistened with her saliva and she gave it a little kiss.

  
And he fell from the edge. His face contorded in a grimace akin to pain, and he arched on the bed, his body releasing little cords of sperm onto his belly. Emilie pumped him through it, milking him until he had nothing to spurt anymore. He was boneless on the bed, his face sweaty, panting as if he had run a marathon.

  
Bobby's cock became limp in her hand and she grinned wide before laughing and saying "I shall call him squishy and he shall be mine."

  
Bobby missed the reference all together but blood was still rushing through his ears and his vision was only returning, the colours coming back.  
"No, no, don't move," Emilie ordered and she took a tissue out of her pocket of her coat. She wiped the sperm off his belly and kissed it, relishing the taste and the quiver that greeted her lips. She put the tissue back in her pocket. "I'll throw it out later."

  
Bobby tucked himself back in, leaving his belt open. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight and possessively.

  
"Thank you..." he whispered in her ear, kissing it in the same time.

  
She hugged him back tight and she got up, trying to make herself proper, but her lips were swollen and hair mussed. He wasn't any better. His hair was tangled, the fluff was knotty and he looked thoroughly fucked.

  
"We have to go back," She said, "People must think we're late."  
"I don't wanna leave here."

  
Of course he didn't want to. This moment was like a bubble in the middle of his routine life, and he didn't want to pop the bubble up.  
"Me neither," she said.

 

  
 After another long hug and tender kisses, they finished dressing up, cleaned up and left their hiding place to go back to the real world.  
  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------------  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Robert was seething. He paced in front of the fireplace of his house, Churchill and Willow, his cats, observing him with impassible eyes. He had tried calling her for hours and she wasn't picking up. Why didn't she answer him ? He was starting to worry. Fuck, he had been worried for hours now, after the second failed call. 

Where was she ? He had arranged everything for them to have an afternoon away from the set, and she had failed to come. The 21st call was a winner though. She answered.  
"Yes ?"  
"FOR FUCK SAKE WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU ??? ARE YOU AWARE OF HOW LONG I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO GET HOLD OF YOU ???"  
"Oh damn." The tone of her voice informed him that yelling at her was probably a mistake but he was too angry to control himself. Emilie de Ravin tried to muffle the phone with her hand, but he could still her say, "Carla, give me a few minutes."  
After a few seconds - he guessed she must have receded from this Carla, she talked to him once more. "What the hell was that, Bobby ?"  
"The fuck, Em ! Where the fuck are you ? I'm coming to pick you up !"  
"Certainly not."  
"Emilie !" he growled through the phone.  
"Robert !" she answered on the same tone.  
"Don't you understand we could have spent the afternoon together ?"  
Emilie sighed, totally annoyed. "Bobby, my life doesn't revolve around you. You are not my father, you are not my husband ! You are my friend and you have no fucking claim to me !"

This brought him to a sudden halt, a huge void opening in his chest and blowing his inside away. 

"Emilie... I..." He just didn't know what to say anymore.  
"Robert, stop behaving like a child. I am not at your beck and call."  
"But I-"  
She cut him off. "We'll see each other tomorrow and you better have an explanation for all this." And she hung up on him. 

Bobby glared at his phone as if the little item was responsible for the whole mess. He called her again.  
"What ?" Emilie said.  
"I am trying to-"  
"Robert, I'm not in the mood right now, I'm busy."  
"You're... busy," he repeated in a dark voice.  
"It's my day off, remember ?" she asked sarcastically.  
"Yeah and I had the afternoon off !"  
"Good for you." 

Bobby sighed, and rubbed his forehead in annoyance, anger, despair, he couldn't even distinguish what he was feeling right now, but it was an ugly mix.  
"Look," he started. "I wanted to spend some time with you. Is it a crime ?"  
"No. The crime is yelling at me when I pick up the phone. And right now, I'm pissed off at you. So I'm going to hang up again and we'll talk tomorrow."

He could hear in Emilie's voice it was useless to insist. His Scottish blood scoffed in his veins at being forced to wait for tomorrow. His temper had flared up and wanted the relief of a shouting match. Bottling his aggression had never worked well for him. It tended to get out later, uglier, having festered on the old wounds of his soul, and it made him vicious.  
"Fine," he ended up saying , his heart whining in frustration. "I start at two PM, at the studio. Will you be there ?"  
Of course, she would be. He knew her schedule.  
"Yes."  
"See you tomorrow." He couldn't help adding, "Take care."  
"Take care."  
They hung up. 

He spent the rest of the afternoon playing video games, trying to vent his anger by blowing up thieves with fireballs on Fable 2. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------

 

The day after came, rainy. It made Bobby happy to be at the studio. He drove there, David Bowie blasting through the speakers. 

He parked, the carpark empty of cars and deserted of people. He entered the studio and saw Michael Raymond-James eating the catering table away. He smirked, and sneaked up behind the younger man. Bobby poked Michael's sides forcefully, making him jump up and drop his sandwiches.  
"What THE HELL !" 

Michael held up a hand to his heart, doubled over and panting as if he had run a marathon. Bobby just stood there, smirking smugly.  
"You bastard !" Michael exclaimed. "You gave me the scare of my life !"  
"Vengeance for last time." The time where Michael had caused him to spill his coffee all over his script.  
"Damn it, Scotsman ! You can't let go, can you ?"  
Bobby smirked and answered "Oh no, we can't." 

He helped himself to a sandwich while Michael picked up his mess and waved hello to Josh, Ginny and Jen. He didn't see Emilie. Where was she ? A heavy weight settled on his stomach, hoping against hope she wouldn't be there but still yearning for a glimpse. At the same time, the itch for a bloodshed was still there and he grinded his teeth trying to reign in his temper. A cigarette and Lana's hand appeared in front of him, and he took it gratefully. He couldn't smoke inside and it was almost 2pm. 

Lana was by his side and they both went outside. She looked miserable. They walked to a nearby bench and they sat, smoking in silence. Bobby said nothing, knowing she hated talking when something was wrong but she liked the silent companionship. He totally got that, after all, she was as private as he was. He took a fag and lit it.  
"I thought you were trying to stop," she commented.  
"Trying being the keyword here," Bobby answered, taking a long drag and offering his pack to Lana.

She took it and lit a cig.  
"You don't roll them anymore ?"

He snorted in answer and explained. "Well, yeah, but I'm trying to stop, remember ? I stopped on the drive to here to buy this."  
Lana nodded. "I see."

After a few moments spent in silence, they both saw Emilie walking swiftly, coffee cup in hand, heading toward the entrance of the studio.  
"Hey Lana !" she shouted joyfully and entered the studio.

Lana glanced at Bobby. "Have you fallen from grace ?"  
He pursed his lips and shrugged. "Seems so."  
"I'm sorry, mate." He nodded and she patted his shoulder in a friendly way. "What happened ?"  
"If I knew... I called her and we argued."  
"Ah." Lana stared at him as if he had two heads.  
"What ?" he asked roughly, not liking the way she was looking at him.  
"You're sharing. You never do."  
"You mean, I don't usually share with my coworkers. I usually do with my wife, and she may be open-minded but... telling her about me arguing with Emilie ? That would be pushing it." Bobby snorted and took another drag on his cigarette.  
"You could disguise the fact you're talking about your mistress."  
"She's not my fucking mistress." His voice was brutally harsh, however Lana wasn't impressed.  
"Well, that's what the Other Woman is called, right ?"  
"Jeez, give me a break, she's..." Truth was, he didn't know how to answer. "She's Emilie, that's it."  
"Your girlfriend ?" Lana insisted.  
"No. She's... She's Emilie, she doesn't have a title."

Lana ruffled his hair and he jerked his head back.  
"Stop it !" he grunted. "I don't like when someone touches me hair."  
"No, you don't like when someone who's not Em touches your hair. She's Miss Special."  
"Fuck off, seriously." After another silence during which Lana bit her lips not to tease him further, he added, "What's up with Fred ?"  
"Nothing more than a couple arguing, like you and Miss Special," she answered, making sure to imitate his Rumpelstiltskin accent when he had asked for "something more special."  
He glared at her. "Well, I'm your friend too, you know. I have ears."  
Lana giggled and smirked at Bobby, eyes full of affection. "Go get your make-up, I'll try to talk to her."  
"Why are you doing this ?"  
She smiled nicely. "Because I'm your friend, you ass." She bent over him, slipped her hand into his coat pocket to grab the cigarette pack and stole it. "My payment, Imp." She winked at him. "Magic always has a price." 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Bobby got out of the make-up department, in Gold's clothes, down to the cane and limp. Emilie was clothed in some tiny outfit displaying her shapely legs and perfect ass. And he was getting frustrated. He had this image of Em being an angry little kitten hissing at the huge dumb dog who didn't know how to react and make it better, like in a video his daughter had shown him on her laptop. 

He walked up to her, avoiding Ginny, and stroked his hand down Emilie's back, and let his hand settle just over her ass. He bent and whispered in her ear, "Hey..."

She faced him, removing his hand from the small of her back and tried to assassinate him with her eyes, lips pressed tight together.  
"For fuck sake, Em, will you stop glaring at me like you're doing right now ?"  
"I have every reason in the world to glare at you right now."  
"And if you could explain to me what I did wrong," he said, trying to be the higher and more sensible one, "I could probably explain and correct my behaviour." Damn, he hadn't been this reasonable in years.  
"Bobby, if you can't understand what you did on your own, I wonder how you survived two decades of relationship."  
"Angel-"  
Emilie cut him off immediately, "Don't 'angel' me !"

A shout from the other side of the studio resounded.  
"Robert ! Emilie ! On your spot !"  
She went immediately, leaving him standing behind, and he strode after her. He entered the stage sets after her, unable not to check her ass out and imagine rubbing against her. A shiver of arousal ran down his back and settled unpleasantly in his guts. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying not to mess up the brushing he'd be given then settled up for playing with his shirt buttons.  
"Nervous, Robert ?"

His Angel calling him by his complete first name was so wrong on so many levels.  
"Em," he started, tilting his face. "Just stop being angry at me, or at least explain to me wh-"  
"Ready ? Set ! Action !"  
And Robert Carlyle disappeared into Mr. Gold just as Emilie became Belle.  
"Belle, this path we're meant to take... It's forever, my darling. I will not be able to let you go again."  
"I hope you will not..."  
"Oh Sweetheart..." Mr. Gold took Belle's hands and pulled her closer. "I can't live without you, I don't want to... I don't know how to." He stroked her face, his gaze resting on her lips hungrily. Belle's pupils dilated and her breathing accelerated. "I..." He bent his head and kissed her. 

That's when Bobby took back the wheel. He pulled Belle/Emilie closer and held her tight against him. He couldn't help himself, the taste of her mouth was too good. He bit her bottom lip and he felt her jerk, knowing Emilie had gone out of character too. She grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled him even more against her before tugging on his hair.  
"Cut."

He growled loud before slipping his tongue between her lips, male pride filling him up when they opened to let him in. His tongue found hers and stroked it. His hands wrapped around her little body and tried pressing her into him more tightly though it wasn't possible.  
"Cut !" 

Emilie pushed him against one of the fake wall, never breaking the kiss and ran her hands up and down his sides and around his back.  
"CUT !"

The director's yell made them jump apart. The woman in charge of the script, affectuously nicknamed "Scripty", stood next to them, papers in hand. "That kiss wasn't scripted, Bobby."

The actor blushed, looking down at Emilie's feet. "Well, I was too deep in character, since Gold was missing her so much, he wouldn't be able to resist planting her one since he... well, he loves her and wants her, you know. Sorry." He cleared his throat and rubbed the nape of his neck. Emilie was just as embarrassed as Robert and she glanced at him.  
"Yeah I don't care about you jumping script, Bob, but we film for ABC, not HBO."  
"Yeah sure."  
"And stay coherent." The director knew better than to reason with someone like Robert Carlyle. It was common knowledge that he was the expert on Rumplestiltskin and if he jumped script, he did it for a reason.  
"Of course," Bobby answered sourly. "Filming for ABC, right. Those lines are cheesy."  
"Yeah the writing ain't that great" Emilie added.  
The director scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Think you could do better ?"

Bobby and Emilie shared a short glance and answered together.  
"Of course."  
"Definitely."  
"Okay, let's go for ad libbing, then, " the director said. 

The first assistant ran up to the director and whispered into his ear.  
The director nodded sharply and shouted in the studio, "Fifteen minutes break, everyone !" He added for Bobby and Emilie, "Don't go too far, you two. Fifteen minutes only." 

He promptly left. The crew split, some left and some stayed, lingering around their material.  
Bobby glanced at Emilie. "Angel, I need to talk to you." 

She glared in answer but he insisted. "I can't..." He took her hand and squeezed it tight before releasing it. He didn't want the crew to hear or see them. He looked at her, eyebrows high, his brow crinkling. His big brown eyes were begging her to let him talk. Emilie looked into his eyes, and sighed.  
"Fine," she said curtly. "We'll talk after today's shooting."  
"We will talk after today's shooting..." he repeated a bit out of breath, then he grinned. He looked like he was ready to hug her and his eyes were fixated on her lips.  
Emilie crossed her arms and frowned. "Don't even think about it."  
Bobby nodded, his mouth tilting in displeasure. "Fine."  
"I'm going to have a drink, want something ?"

He shook his head no, watching her go toward the water dispenser, staring at her ass and wondering if she wasn't adding an extra sway to her hips on purpose. Of course, she knew he would be watching, so she did it purposefully. 

Since they'd had their little interlude in Gold's shop a few weeks ago, he just couldn't get enough of her. They had stolen time for themselves whenever they could but it was never enough. He had kissed her in dark corners of the set, in his trailer and in hers, in his car, but there was never enough time for more. And he wanted more. And it tore him apart to want more. Facing his wife every day was an ordeal but he couldn't restrain himself. Even now, he had to stop his instincts to go and corner Emilie to get... He forced himself not to project mentally what he'd do to her, no need to walk around in public with an erection. He turned around, looking at the set of Gold's kitchen. What he wouldn't give to just fuck her on the counter - No ! He needed to stop thinking like that, he wasn't a randy teenager anymore. 

Bobby turned around, yearning for a cigarette. Jamie was by Emilie's side, holding a box of biscuits and talking to her in a low voice. He was way too close for the Scotsman's tastes and he barely could restrain a possessive growl.  
"Mr Carlyle ?" 

Robert turned. Patrick, his own PA, was there too.  
"You've had a call from your agent, Sir."  
"What did he want ?"  
"Mr Hodell wanted to make sure you had read the email he sent two days ago."

Bobby sighed. "Fine, I'll check it out later."  
His agent, Christian Hodell, was a true professional, abiding his privacy wishes but he had a nasty habit of wanting him to make more promos.  
Robert just nodded in thanks and Patrick departed. 

The director came back and gestured impatiently to Emilie to come back to her mark. "Ok guys, let's do this !"

The crew assembled. Scripty grabbed her papers and sat in a corner.  
Emilie joined Bobby on the set. She flashed a grin at him, which he gave back.  
"What did Jamie want ?" he asked.  
"I've got a call about a convention."

He couldn't help the automatic disgusted sound that escaped his throat. Everyone knew of his love for such gatherings. It's not that he didn't love the fans, but too many of them were like an aggregation of sharks. He didn't need the money conventions paid but he needed all the time he could spare to spend with his kids.  
Emilie chuckled.  
The first assistant shouted for silence and the director called out "Ready ? Set ? ACTION !"

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Emilie put a sandwich in front of Lana and sat on the bench just outside the studio. It was nighttime and Emilie was back in her normal clothes, but Lana was still in her mayor gear. She was set for night shots with Jen.  
"Bobby asked Josh to tell me you wanted to talk to me ?" the young Australian said with a smirk. "He thought he was being subtle."

Lana snorted loud and stifled her laugh as best as she could.  
"Men are so obvious," she commented. 

Emilie rolled her eyes in agreement, a large smile on her face.  
"You want to plead his case ?"  
"Yeah, he looked pathetic."

Emilie burst out laughing and unwrapped her own sandwich before starting to eat.  
"No need to plead for him, I agreed to a chat after work."  
"You're waiting for him ?" Lana asked, eating her food too.  
"Yes, he had one more shot to do with Josh, and he's changing back into his clothes."

The two women ate in silence, enjoying the quietness of the stars after a day of excitement of the studio. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Bobby was observing the two women, his best friends on set. Better have that chat like one tears off a bandage, quickly and with as little pain as possible.

He grinded his teeth, and walked up to them, laying a hand on Emilie's back, a ghostly brush becoming a firm touch on her skin. She tensed, then relaxed under his touch, and he felt himself relax too. He gave her a shy smile, which she gave back, under Lana's smug eyes. 

Lana got up, stretched her legs.  
"Gonna leave you two lovebirds on your own. Bobby, be nice, k ?"  
"Sure," Bobby said under his breath.  
"You know what they say, Lana. Do the stupid thing and Bobby will follow," Emilie said. 

Bobby's mouth twisted in a grimace.  
Lana chuckled and departed. Bobby looked yearningly at her pocket, to the cigarettes pack he knew was there. Emilie trailed her hand to his hair and scratched the nape of his neck. He restrained the moan which threatened to escape his mouth until Emilie grabbed him and hugged him tight against her.  
"I'm still angry at you," she whispered in his ear.  
"I'm sorry..." Bobby apologized without even knowing what for.

Lana entered the studio building with a smirk on her lips.  
Emilie let go of Bobby and cupped his face.  
"Why are you sorry ?" she asked.  
"Tell me what I did wrong."  
"We need to talk but not here, Bobby."

Robert nodded and grabbed her hand, kissed it quickly and pulled her forward. "Come with me."

He tucked her arm around his as they always did and led her to the area where the trailers were kept at night. Being on a night schedule required them to sign a register because the area was restrained to people only having a trailer inside. 

The nightwatch security guy gestured to them to stop at the entrance of the trailers zone and observed them from his cabin. Satisfied with what he saw, the guard got out of his cabin and approached them. Bobby didn't like being noticed in a place he shouldn't be with someone he shouldn't be with but it was necessary. 

"Mr Carlyle ? Didn't expect to see ya, Sir. Mrs de Ravin, evening, Ma'am."  
"Hi Tom !" Emilie chirped by his side. 

He refrained from a possessive growl, of course she knew the guy, she knew everyone. She loved everyone. He ended up relaxing his jaw enough to greet the man, trying to be as pleasant as he could, summoning all his talent to do so.  
"Good evening." 

In the darkness of the folds of their coats, he felt Emilie pinch the outer side of his right thigh.  
"I need you to sign the register and you're good to go," the security said, handing him the iPad and a graphic pen.

Bobby read it the document quickly; it stated their names and the time and day of the visit out of opening hours. He signed at the appropriate spot and gave Emilie the iPad so that she could do the same. After she did, he gave the item back to the guard and Tom wished them a good evening before letting them pass. 

Emilie hooked her arm around his, stroking the inside of his forearm as they walked together amongst the trailers.  
"Bobby, you need to relax," she whispered.  
"I'm relaxed."  
"No, you're not. So it makes you rude. You have a rudeness problem."  
"I am Sco-"  
Emilie cut him off, her voice louder and louder, "If you're about to say you're rude because you're Scottish, we'll have a problem. Because I'm Australian and I don't know how to throw a boomerang and I don't ride a kangaroo to go to work !"  
"But this is a fucking cliché !"

She let go of his arm and he felt the loss of contact like a stab to his guts.  
"Being Scottish thus being rude is a fucking cliché too, Robert ! You and I are more than clichés !"

His eyes flash with restrained anger and hers burnt with righteous fury.  
"I'm still a rude fucking asshole, that's what you seem to think, anyhow. So, not a cliché," Bobby snarled.

The need to fill his lungs with fag smoke came back, stronger than before.  
"You ARE a rude fucking asshole, Bobby !" Emilie shouted suddenly. 

His nostrils flared in anger but before he could answer, a voice put an end to their argument.  
"Mr. Carlyle ? Mrs De Ravin ?" Tom called out, his footsteps coming closer. "Problem ?"

Bobby and Emilie took a step apart, their shouting having brought them to an inappropriate closeness. The torch light blinded them both.  
Tom pocketed his taser. "Jeez, you got me scared, I thought Mrs Morrison's trailer was being ransacked."  
"No, everything is fine, Tom. Thank you for your concern," Emilie smiled gently at the guard. 

She glanced at Bobby and raised her eyebrows in an expectant manner. In a flash, Bobby realised it was his chance. He cleared his throat to have the man's attention and turned to him.  
"Thank you, Tom. We... Our chat got too loud. Thank you for checking on us, one never knows what could happen." He raised his hand to be shaken and Tom hesitated a second before shaking it with a smile.  
"Thanks, Sir. Just doing my job. Where do you want to go ?"  
"My trailer."  
"Let me escort you there."

Emilie nodded with a grin and Bobby figured it was wiser. Maybe silence would calm her down, and with a witness, they couldn't shout at each other. In fact, he didn't want to argue with her at all. The time he had with her was too precious and too little to spoil with anger. That fact hit him like a freight train and he decided to fix the situation, whatever it took to go back to where they stood before.

The few minutes' walk it took to get to his trailer seemed too long and too short at once. Bobby inserted the key and entered the trailer. It was cold but the little heater kept it from going icy at night.  
Tom bid them goodbye and wished them a good evening before departing.

Bobby put the heater to the maximum heat it could give out.  
"It's going to be better in a couple of minutes, Angel," he said in a soft voice. He licked his lips quickly, trying to find the good words. "I know..." He cleared his throat again, looking down. Emilie turned and looked at him, brow furrowed and arms crossed. His shoulders suddenly slumped and he rubbed his eyes with his hands before looking at Emilie.

"I'm an asshole," he started in a clear voice. "I've never made a mystery of it. I'm jealous and possessive. I consider you part of my inner circle and so I will protect you from anything and anyone." Bobby looked into her eyes, wanting to convey every bit of feelings he could feel to her. "I don't know what happens between us. All I know is that I want to spend time in your arms, as much as I can. I..." He started to pace, making large gestures with his hands. "I care. I care for you, way much more than I should. I understand you're angry at me. I... don't know why, but before you start yelling at me again, I would like you to explain to me why you are angry. Because, if you don't tell me what I do wrong with you, I cannot do right. And I want to do things right." He raised his eyebrows, eyes wide and open, hoping she'd understand his goodwill in this matter. 

Emilie grinned wide at Bobby and took his hands in hers.  
"You've just said the thing I wanted you to say, Bobby..."

She squeezed his hands and pulled him closer for a kiss. He felt her grin against his lips and hugged her tight. She raised her hands and put them on his shoulders before leading him to the couch and pushing him down to sit. He obeyed her wordless command and looked up to her, giving her his full attention, trying not to focus on her lips too much. She smiled at him and he felt the pad of her finger on his earlobe. It brushed down his jaw and stroked his bottom lip, soft like the velvet of a rose.

She sat down next to him and took his hands in hers. She grinned at him happily and licked her lips. It drew his attention and he did the same. 

Emilie started, "Bobby, what you did... You were selfish. You assumed I would be available, at your beck and called me for a fuck. And when I wasn't, you yelled at me. This is not okay."  
Bobby shook his head. "No... I... We had an opportunity. I mean, I was let out earlier than planned, my wife and kids were away for the afternoon and it was your day off. It sounded like a perfect opportunity. And you didn't answer your calls, I grew worried."  
"I was hiking with my friend Carla."  
"I don't know her."  
"No, you don't." 

Emilie didn't offer any more information about her though Bobby didn't talk at once for her to.  
"Well, I wanted to spend time with you," he repeated.  
"Bobby, you have to understand I don't belong to you. I appreciate the concern but..." She stroked his cheek. "I meant what I said, you're not my father, you're not my husband. You can't yell at me because things don't happen as you want them to happen."  
Robert resisted the urge to argue. Emilie added, "You have to respect me, Bobby."

This time, he couldn't resist.  
"But I do !"  
"I didn't get that impression."  
"Emilie, I..."  
She cut him off, looking serious, the most serious he had ever seen her look. It did weird things to his insides. "Never yell at me again for no reason."  
"Never. I promise you."

The look of seriousness faded away and she grinned widely at him.  
"Awesome !" 

She pulled him to her by the front of his clothes and kissed him briefly. He enjoyed the taste of her mouth, feeling her part her lips for him. He felt her tug the hair at his neck and he chuckled, breaking the kiss.  
"Angel... you're not playing fair," he said gently. "I had a surprise for you, for your birthday. But... I feel it is proper to give it to you now instead."

Emilie let him go and Bobby got up and walked to the cupboard of the trailer. He took his guitar case out of it. He laid it on the table and took the guitar out before taking off his jacket. He went back to sit on the couch, the guitar on his lap.  
"Your favourite band is the Beatles, right ?" He asked.  
"Yes."  
"Good. I learned this one for you, Angel."  
He tuned the guitar, played some chords and cleared his throat.  
"Ready ?"  
"I'm ready when you are, darling," Emilie answered. Her blue eyes sent sparks of glee through him and he couldn't help smiling, looking down modestly. 

He cleared his throat again and started to play. Emilie liked that song, it wasn't her favourite but it was well chosen and it went well with a combo guitar/voice. He had reworked the music a tiny bit to make it more like a pop ballad.  
"I want to tell you," Robert sang. "My head is filled with things to say... But when you're here, all those words, they seem to slip away..."

Emilie was mesmerized by his song. His voice was not strong per se, and a bit off on the long notes but her large grin told him he was doing ok.  
"But if I seem to act, it's only me, it's not my mind that is confusing things..." He sang on.  
On the musical bridge, he winked gently at her. He continued, "Sometimes I wish I knew you well, then I could speak my mind and tell you, maybe you'd understand... I want to tell you I feel hung up but I don't know why, I don't mind, I could wait forever, I've got time, I've got time... I've got time."

He played the final chords and smiled wide at Emilie, obviously very proud of himself.  
Emilie took the guitar, leant it on the floor against the couch and kissed him deeply before whispering "Thank you, Bobby..." against his lips.  
"You're welcome, Em."

They nuzzled, smiling at each other. Emilie ran her hands on his sides and bit her bottom lip. Bobby hissed and caught her mouth with his, eyes like a predator. She fisted his shirt, pulling him closer and he wrapped an arm around her and ran the other down her front under her moncler to her thigh. A purring noise gave him pause and he glanced down.  
"Are you hungry, darling ?" Emilie asked.  
"Yeah, Em, I am." 

She got up and helped him up. "Let's go eat, then," she decided.  
"But... My wife... She said she would be cooking."  
Emilie stroked his chest. "I think you work late, later than planned, you should warn her." 

Bobby leant toward her. With her little heels, she was nearly at his height. Her nose touched his cheek, her mouth brushed against his jaw. Breathing her scent made his head turn and clouded his judgment. He wanted to go with her, it would be easy to give in. 

"Yeah," he heard himself say. He took his phone from his jeans pocket and sent a text to his wife, telling her shooting was late and he didn't know when he would be home. His wife texted back an agreement and a pic of their kids around the TV watching a movie. It was tradition that if he wasn't there for bedtime, a piccy would be sent. He smiled and turned his phone off before sliding it back into his pocket.

Emilie nibbled on his jaw line, making him bite his lip in pleasure, then she let go of him.  
"Let's go, darling," she murmured against his skin.  
A tiny moan of agreement escaped him and she went to turn off the heater, Bobby watching her ass. She handed him his jacket and he packed his guitar away.  
"Angel..." 

He kissed her lightly but she stepped backward, chuckling.  
"You'll never eat if you keep delaying our departure, Darling. Let's go !" Emilie ordered, squeezing his ass playfully and pushed him away. She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his trailer. She locked the trailer up while he put on his jacket and they walked arm in arm in silence to his car, Emilie waving at Tom and Bobby nodding at him when they passed his booth. 

Bobby felt her presence by his side like one feels a sharp-edged knife in their side. He pushed her against the side of the car and kissed her hard.  
"Em," he whimpered in her mouth.  
She let him kiss her a whole minute before breaking it.  
"Man, car, now," Emilie said in a serious voice.  
"Fine, fine." 

He unlocked the BMW and they drove away.  
"Where do you want to go eat ?" Bobby asked Emilie.  
"I know a little pub, in New Westminster." 

New Westminster was the town where Gold and Regina's houses were located. Bobby nodded. "Ok, Angel." He wanted to touch her again, feel her soft skin under his fingers. He missed her. He saw her everyday but privacy hadn't been possible, and neither intimacy. Since that day in Gold's shop, he had fucked his wife every day. Twice a day, on some days. However, his desire for Emilie stayed in the back on his mind like some kind of Goa'uld and it took over him sometimes. Like now. Actually, like 90% of his time. When he fucked his wife, he saw Emilie. When he dreamt, he saw Emilie. His fantasies were full of her, and he couldn't spend enough time with her. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw her taking her smartphone out and opening twitter. She grunted. "God. Ginny and Josh are flirting all over twitter."  
Bobby snorted. "How nauseatingly romantic."  
"Oh that's a good one !"

They shared a small smile and he put on the radio, settling on a soft rock station. She smiled at his profile and went back onto twitter.  
"Oh god. That drawing !" She exclaimed after the fourth song.  
"What ?"  
"On Tumblr, in the tag 'Rumbelle art' ! There is a drawing of me licking your sperm off your cane !"  
"My my, sounds kinky."  
"We're not trying that, Bobby !"  
"No no," he replied way too fast to be honest.

She narrowed her eyes at him while he stared ahead at the road, fighting off a smirk and failing to look innocent.  
"No," she said firmly.  
"Seriously, you could consider it. Cane smut is one huge major kink."  
"No, Bobby, no. Have you even imagined the bacteria on the handle ? No fucking way !"  
"We'll sanitize it."

She just glared at him and didn't even dignify him with an answer making him chuckle warmly.  
"Okay, Angel, we're in New Wes. Where do I go ?"  
"It's called the Union Jack. It's on the Seventh Street, around the number 500s," she answered. 

Bobby's BMW slickly moved through the streets, black as night, reflecting the lights of the shops and bars. New Westminster was a nice little town, a tiny little bit livelier than Steveston but still dead when compared to Vancouver. Bobby parked in the pub's parking lot. 

They exited the car and Emilie hooked her arm into his. The walk was short but they walked together, arm in arm, to the Union Jack Public House. Inside, it was like a regular British pub, with hardwood floor and wood walls. There were round tables with stools in the middle and regular tables around the room. TVs showing a soccer match were embedded into golden frames on the walls. In the back of the room, a long bar stood, in front of a mirror covered in bottles on shelves. Above the bar, a blackboard advertised the house's specials and discounts. It also announced that tonight was a British night, meaning that drinks and food would have had to be fetched at the counter instead of served at table. He could have been in Glasgow, though it was a bit too clean for Scotland. Music blared through hidden speakers and the establishment was crowded, the sound of the chatting nearly overwhelming.  
"Is it okay, Bobby ?" Emilie shouted in his ear.

He nodded and let her guide him through the crowd. She pulled him suddenly by the arm and he found himself sat in a chair while Emilie sat on the couch against the wall.  
"Wow... You're a magician," he commented.

Emilie smiled proudly and touched his forearm.  
"You know what, dear ?" she said. "You buy the first beer and I'll treat you dinner."  
Bobby's eyebrows shoot up. "My, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly."  
"You're no gentleman, you said yourself," she replied.  
"Yeah but still no excuses."

Between the music, the TVs and the chatting noises, they both relied more on lip reading to comprehend than actual listening. Bobby got up and leaned over the table to talk to her. He said in her ear, "What do you want to drink ?"  
"White wine, Californian, but I'll take whatever tastes good. No fortified wines, k ? A Chardonnay or Sauvignon would be perfect."  
"Yes, Lady Em," he answered in a slightly ironic voice. "Your wish is my command." 

He winked and walked to the bar, parting the crowd like any barfly. 

Bobby came back 15 minutes later holding a beer bottle and a big glass of white wine. He deposited it on the table and sat down. The loud noise forced him to bend to over the table to announce in an obsequious and accented voice, like an uptight English butler, "Lady Emilie of the Ravin, here's a glass of Australian chardonnay. A vineyard called Wolfblass Eaglehawk. It produces a fresh wine, bursting with melon and white peach flavours, enhanced with a hint of oak." 

Emilie burst out laughing and sobered up before tasting the drink. She looked content and told him so with a French accent, leaning over the table to be heard as well, "Dear Carlyle, the fruity and fresh taste of this nectar is particularly attractive to my tastebuds. As usual, your taste and your knowledge of my tastes are perfect."  
"I aim to please, Lady Emilie."  
They looked at each other and burst out laughing in mirth.  
"What did you take ?" Emilie asked.

Bobby turned the bottle to show her the label. Emilie howled in laughter like a hyena.  
"No fucking way !"  
"Yes fucking way, Angel," he countered.  
"XXXX Gold ? Seriously ?"  
"Yes, I wanted to pay my hommage to your country."  
Emilie wiped a little tear. "It's real weak, you know," she warned him. "Almost a beer for kids."  
He narrowed his eyes and said on a flirty tone, "Seems you've tasted the XXXX Gold already."  
"Yeah, I did. It's a porny beer. I read dozens of fanfics where I tasted the XXXX of Gold's."  
Bobby snorted ungracefully and hid his face behind a menu, not wanting to take the hint.  
Emilie smirked, knowing he wouldn't. For all his Scottish bark, the bite was very weak. He read the menu, squinting his eyes to be able to read without glasses.  
"The fish and chips is very good, here," she informed him.  
He read the sentence on her lips more than he heard it.  
"There's no risotto," he commented.  
"There can't be risotto in every restaurant, Darling."  
"Sure, not. You sure the fishy is good ? Ain't sure you know what makes a proper fishy."  
"Well, if I don't know," Emilie answered, "it's because you taught me wrong. I'm telling the fish and chips is good, believe me."  
"Oh I do..." 

He moved to stand and go order but Emilie put an arm on his to prevent him from getting up.  
"I'm going," she said. "I told you it was my treat."  
"Yeah but I don't mind inviting you."  
"Thank you but I'm an independant woman and I can pay for my meal as well as my..." She stopped midsentence, trying to find a proper word to qualify him. "my friend's." 

But the idea was too deep into his mind. He made a move to get up but she beat him to the punch and was on her feet before him. She slid past the table and, standing behind him, rested her hands on his shoulders.  
"Do not move, Bobby," she warned him.  
"Angel, I mean it, I want to invite you."  
"No." 

He tried getting up again but she just prevented him.  
"Shhh," she bent and whispered in his ear. "Stay where you are..."

Emilie slipped a hand in his hair, going for the nape of his neck once more. Her fingers made unspeakable things to him, her nails brushing the thin skin of his scalp made getting his loins tighten in anticipation and her free hand moved to rub the area over his heart. 

Bobby closed his eyes, enjoying the attentions, a slight smile on his lips when suddenly her hands were on him no more. He awaited a few seconds before opening his eyes to see why she had stopped and he realised he was alone. She had tricked him. He swore under his breath and rubbed the corners of his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart. He swallowed half his beer in just one go, making a face at the weak taste. Gnats piss, indeed. Fuck, that beer was almost lemonade. 

Emilie came back holding two plates a bit later and put one in front of him and one in front of herself.  
"Just for the record, you're a bitch, Em."  
He didn't mean it and they both knew it.  
She laughed and squeezed his hand over the table.  
"Enjoy," she said before attacking her meal.  
"Thanks, same for you."

They shared a smile.  
He wolfed his plate down, the hunger in his belly being sated. Emilie had been right, the fish and chips was decent and even included green peas and a proper béarnaise sauce. It was satisfying. 

A band had settled in while they were eating. They had started to play country music. Not a bad choice for his tastes, but it meant that between the music and the chatter, they really couldn't talk anymore.

Bobby glanced around and saw that no one paid any attention to them at all. He felt anonymous. He felt good. It prompted him to act. 

His plate empty, he joined her on her side of the table, sitting on the little couch, thigh against her.  
"What are you doing ?" she asked.  
Their shoulders were touching too.  
"Feeding you."

Bobby gently took a french fry from her plate and held it to Emilie's lips. She smiled at him and bit into it. She ate it all and licked the tip of his fingers to clean them from the grease.  
"There's a restaurant by my house, a fish restaurant. They used to make one of the best fishies I've ever tasted. They changed the chef and now, it's fucking disgusting. I should have brought you there while it was still good."

Emilie just smiled and ate another fry.  
Bobby's eyes suddenly lit, grinning. "There is this cook, a French girl, working there. She's a fan but the good kind, you know ? The kind who knows when it's a private moment and who doesn't intrude, see what I mean ?"  
"Yes."  
"So, once, I arrive at the restaurant and she is bent over the ice tray and picking up shrimps. She is humming California Solo, not realising I am behind her, you know ? Then she turns around and sees me. She just totally fucking freezes and looks at me with a jawdrop like I've never seen before. And then she blushes and just flees right back into the kitchen."

Emilie burst out laughing. "Oh the poor girl. You must have given her such a scare !" She shoved him with her shoulder and he grinned at her. 

Bobby felt suddenly a hand on his thigh, curtesy of Emilie. "Angel," he said in a fake exasperated voice.  
Emilie smiled at him. "Yes, darling..?"  
"Not here..."

He slipped his hand under the table and took Emilie's hand in his, their palms rubbing against each other and he rubbed the pad of his thumb to her little bridge of flesh between thumb and index finger. Contentness filled him and they exchanged a tender smile. Bobby came to a brutal realisation. This, holding hand under the table, sharing a meal before going back home, sharing food with her and feeding each other. It was enough. He had thought it would only be a torrid affair but this tenderness was enough for him. Oh fuck. He was in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my technical expert ! You know who you are :)


	3. Chapter 3

After the restaurant, Bobby had driven Emilie home, his feelings in a turmoil.   
  
He parked down her building and she departed with a last smile and a caress against his cheek which left his lips wanting and his guts twisting. He watched her enter her building, sighing deeply, before driving home.

The next day, they were working separatedly, Bobby doing some ADR and Emilie filming in another studio. He dubbed scenes with Lana and Colin for a few hours.

  
During the break, Lana cornered Bobby while he was outside, smoking and freezing.   
"Holy goodness, Carlyle ! Smoking again ?" she thundered, grabbing the cig he had in his mouth and crushed it under her heel.  
"What the fuck ?" he exclaimed with a strong accent.   
"You'll thank me in the future, you ass. In ten years, your lungs will be clean from all the crap you've glued to them."   
"Ain't you being a bit of a drama queen ?" he countered, annoyed.   
Lana gave him a malevolent smirk. "Emilie will thank you."   
He frowned a bit, "Why would she thank me for stopping smoking ?"   
"She's a former smoker, Bob. When you smoke around her, you tempt her into starting again."

  
Bobby's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't seen it that way. He scratched nis nose thoughtfully, calming down gradually.   
"Yeah. Makes sense."

  
He buried his hands in his pockets, and kicked the wall once, twice.  
"So, the two of you," she asked as if she was Regina in real life, a leftover from being in character. "What happens ?"   
Bobby shrugged. "We... take it slowly."   
Lana furrowed her brow. "Slowly ? How slowly ? Did the two of you..?"   
"No offence, Lana, but it ain't your fucking business."   
"Don't tell me you haven't done it ?"   
She tilted her head. "You're having second thoughts ?"   
"No. Weirdly, I don't, I thought I would have some, you know. But... fuck no. It... feels right. I have my family on one side and her."

Lana tilted her head and replied in a softer voice, "I called your wife yesterday."   
"Whit ?" The Scottish accent was back full force.

  
She pursued in a rush, "I told her I was doing a dinner party between coworkers so I was warning her you'd go back late. However, I cancelled everyone but you and your Miss Special. So, double date at my home tomorrow night."   
"Whit ?" Bobby repeated, puzzled and softer.   
Lana shrugged but blushed a little. "Well, I thought maybe you'd like having a little evening, where you could test behaving as a couple ? You wouldn't have to hide like you do here."

  
He looked more than perplexed but touched. "Thank you, Lana... I..."   
He shut up and wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back, patting his back before letting go.   
"Don't mention it. I realised it was more than a fuck and... since you've decided to live it... I'm your friend and friends help each other."   
Lana grinned and slapped Bobby's arm. "So, it's all fine and you can tell Miss Special yourself."

  
He just grinned and followed her inside the building, blessing mentally whoever had invented heaters.  
  
  
**********  
  
  
Bobby knocked on the door of Emilie's trailer at noon, carrying two lunch packs. He knocked on her door and entered without waiting for her invitation. He kicked the door closed not to let the cold come in.  
  
Bobby found Emilie watching TV. She was wearing a little red tank top and a jeans.   
"Not in gear ?" he asked as a greeting before checking her out from bottom to top.   
"Try wearing heels and a tight skirt and shirt for hours and you will realise this question is stupid," Em answered. "Hello."   
"Hey..."  
  
He swallowed, gathering his courage and bent for a quick kiss.   
They had had bolder activities together before but Bobby was still shy about casual day-to-day affection. He had feared growing closer and physical would make their complicity awkward but the opposite was happening. They were adjusting their relationship and including kisses and embraces deepened it, like a spirale of affection.  
  
Emilie rewarded him with a magnificent smile that made his heart flutter and sat down next to her on the couch, giving her a lunchbox. He had been careful to select a pasta, tomatoes and shrimps meal for the two of them.   
"I hope it didn't get cold ? I can microwave it, if you want," Bobby told her pointing at the kitchen part of her trailer.  
"Thank you, darling," she muttered, taking a shrimp and giving him a bite before finishing the piece herself. "Hmmm delicious... No need to heat it up again."  
 "Good... I know you adore seafood but I wasn't sure about the sauce."   
"It's perfect," she confirmed.   
"Fucking great."  
  
Bobby saw cutlery on the coffee table and gave a fork to her. They dug into their food, watching TV, a rerun of 'The walking dead.' As Daryl shot an arrow through a zombie's skull, Bobby felt Emilie's toes brush against his ankle. He grinned wide, munching on a shrimp. He leaned in and kissed her, letting her steal food from his mouth.   
  
Emilie grabbed the nape of his neck with one hand and deepened their kiss. His grip on the box tightened not to grab her and tip the meals over. She sighed deeply before stopping, licking her lips.   
"Your taste makes every things better, my darling."  
  
Bobby could only nod and keep on eating, playing footsie with her. He should tell her about the double date, but he didn't know how. He didn't know if she had something already planned for her evening and if she would even be interested in playing house with him. After all, she had mainly pursued him for... time. And sex, though they had not done anything yet. And... Oh fuck, maybe he should just ask.   
"What do you do tomorrow evening ?" he asked before he could change his mind.   
"Nothing, darling," Emilie replied, with a scratch to the nape of his neck.   
"You have any plans ?"   
"Yeah, I do."  
  
Bobby glanced at Em sideways and saw her good mood evaporating. Her smile was gone and his heart tightened in his chest.   
"I mean, I have plans with you," he precised.  
Emilie brightened and scratched him again. "What is it ?"  
"You, me, Lana and Fred, dinner."  
"I thought it was for everyone."  
"No, it's a double date, they did it on purpose."  
Em looked pleased and replied, "that's so cool of them !"   
"Yes, it is."   
  
Bobby smiled at Emilie brightly.   
"It's going to be Christmas in a month," she said.  
"Yeah. What are you going to do ?"  
"I'm going to Australia to visit my family, I guess."  
"Fucking great, Angel," he replied.  
"Will you go to Scotland ?" Emilie asked him, looking down sadly before stabbing a shrimp with her fork a bit too aggressively to be innocent.  
"Yeah. My kids need to see their family."   
"I see," she answered. "It's alright," she added after a moment. "I understand. I'll miss you."   
Bobby smiled and stroked her thigh before rubbing her calf with his.  
"I'll miss you too," he replied with honesty.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Lana's house was a cosy villa set in West Van. To ease the traveling, Bobby and Em had decided to go to with separate cars. No need for him to do unnecessary driving. There was an about 30 minutes drive on a good day from his house to her flat, and then back to West Van.   
  
They agreed to meet in front of Lana's house. Em's blue mini was dwarfed by Bobby's huge BMW, something which had always amused him.   
"And here comes the pocket car !" he exclaimed when they got out of their respective cars, his breath making a white cloud in front of his face when he talked.   
"Just you shut up, at least I can park easily !" she replied in the same voice.   
  
He laughed but refused to take the bait. He leaned in to brush his lips against hers with a smile. She was extremely cute with her red scarf wrapped around her neck and a short moncler.   
"Hello, my Princess," he muttered before looking around quickly.   
In the Mini, Em's beagles were barking at them, wanting to let out. The street was calm, the night having emptied it. Lana lived in a very suburbian area of West Van, with Fred when he flew from LA for the week end. Bobby relaxed. Emilie grabbed the lapels of his scarf and claimed a second kiss, a harder one.   
"Hi my Prince..." Em answered before deepening the kiss.  
"Do I have to throw a bucket of water upon you two ?"  
  
Lana's voice made them jump apart. "I've been watching for the past ten minutes through the window and you're about to draw all the perverts out of the woods !"   
She was standing in the middle of her driveway, hands on her hips and looking at them as if she was their mom.   
  
Bobby opened the car backseat door and fetched a bottle of wine while Em did the same and retrieved a bunch of flowers, allowing the dogs to jump down.  
Lana giggled and petted them before when her two guests gave her their gifts and she followed them to her villa.   
  
Bobby opened the door for the two ladies, and admired the view as he walked behind Em. Lana led them to the living room. Through the window bay, they could see Fred in the garden tending to two barbecues. Fred waved at his guests through the window and focused back on his task.   
  
The man was courageous, Bobby had to admit. He was not very sensitive to cold but damn, even he was cold.      
  
Mable and Louise rushed to say hi to Lola, Lana's dog, and soon, the three dogs were running around the house, squeaky toys in their mouths.   
  
Emilie and Bobby sat in the couch, next to each other, interlacing their fingers.  
  
Lana brought back two beer bottles and a glass of wine for Em.   
"Fred's not coming ?" Bobby asked.   
"Fred is happy playing caveman outside," Lana answered with a smitten look toward her fiancé.   
  
Bobby grinned, happy things seemed to be better between the two of them. The two of them were a perfect match, just like he and... He glanced at Em, smiling gently but was unable to end the sentence in his mind.   
Lana added, "You gonna see that when he comes back, he gonna ask if I liked not cooking. The dumbass doesn't realise I prepared the burger buns, the fries, the salad, and the apple pie."   
She rolled her eyes. Em giggled and squeezed Bobby's hand with affection.  
 "They have good uses sometimes. Mine's a driver," she replied.   
"Dear god, I haven't found Fred's use yet !"   
They snorted together and Bobby found himself grinning.   
"You bunch of sexists," he complained, overacting his tone. "Men are not objects, why are we objectified ?"   
  
They all burst out laughing.  
The three of them toasted, made small talk over their glasses. They talked about ouat, the lack of rumbelle and Belle screentime - which pissed Bobby off more than Emilie. They didn't talk about the elephant in the room, the used golden ring around his left ring finger.  
  
Fred finally arrived, carrying a plate of burgers and fish burgers.   
"For the veggiiiiiiie," he announced, putting a fish burger in Em's plate.   
"Thank you for remembering !" she exclaimed with a happy look that made Bobby's heart beat faster.  
  
Lana grinned wide and passed the bowl of fries and the bowl of salad.   
"So, my love, happy not to have had to cook ?" Fred asked, sitting down to eat with a big satisfied smile.   
Lana caught Emilie's eyes and they tried to stiffle their laughter until they suddenly couldn't and just laughed. Fred looked at Bobby quizzically.   
The Scotsman just shrugged and answered, "We're objects, man... toys in their hands."   
The Canadian chuckled. "Don't mind being Lana's sextoy, and I bet you don't mind being Em's either."   
Bobby smiled tenderly, glancing at Emilie, still sniggering with Lana, and nodded dreamily. "No complaining..."  
When the ladies could finally breathe again, the meal went on. The burgers were delicious, the compagny was excellent and once the meal was done, plates empty, Emilie offered to do the dishes.   
"We have a dishwasher, Sweetie," Lana told her.  
  
Em threw a little glance at Bobby. He understood at once.   
"We're going to do it, Lana," he said, taking Em's hand in his above the table.   
"Oh." The penny dropped for Lana and Fred.  
  
Bobby and Emilie wanted to play house.  
  
"Alright, alright, we gonna watch TV while you're doing this," Lana decided with a big teasing. "No hearing what you guys are doing in the kitchen, then..."   
She grabbed her man by the hand and pulled him away quickly, leaving her colleagues alone.  
Em and Bobby shared a suddenly shy smile before she looked down. He slowly rose his fingers to her chin and made her look at him. He dipped his head and covered her mouth with his.   
"What world are we living in when my fantasies are not sexual but of cooking and cleaning with you ?" she said with a tiny smile against his lips.   
"A world where sex is available but domesticity is... rare."   
"Oh Bobby..."   
"I know," he just replied.   
  
Sex and physical started to be secondary for him too. Just being in her presence was enough.  
They carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen.   
"I'm washing," he announced, taking the sponge.   
"Great because I hate it."  
  
They both stood by the sink, shoulder against shoulder. He washed and gave her the plates to dry. Her fingers brushed against his, tantalising, tempting... They worked in perfect harmony, his washing rythm in perfect sync with her drying rythm.   
"Are you going back home after this ?" he asked her, giving her a fork.  
"Of course." Emilie glanced at the clock. "It's nearly midnight. I need my beauty sleep."  
  
Bobby couldn't help thinking she was always pretty, no matter the amount of sleep she had. And he mentally grunted at the cheesy thought he never had for anyone else before. He felt like a fool. But then, Emilie bumped in his arms with a playful smile. It was a pity his hands were in the soapy water, really.   
"You're lost in your head," she told him.  
"Yeah."   
  
He gave her the last plate and wiped his hand, watching Em dry it. When it was done, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and hugged her tight. He hid his face in her throat.   
"Oh..." she whimpered and one of her hand rose up to cup his neck. She scratched him and it sent little spark of arousal down his spine. Bobby tightened his hold on her and his fingertips slipped under her top.   
"Bobby," she protested, her voice dropping to a hush. "Lana and Fred are around !"  
"Let's keep silent, then..."   
  
His whole hand disappeared and he brushed his fingertips against her bra. He caressed her belly, kissing the side of her neck and couldn't hellp rubbing himself to her backside. He was half hard and he wanted her very much.   
  
Suddenly, low squeaky hisses were heard and little drops of water fell all over their faces. Bobby and Em broke off their embrace, though he kept a protective hand on her hip.  
Lana stood in the threshold of the kitchen, a water spray bottle in her grasp, held up threateningly.   
"I did warn you. The only reason you didn't receive a bucket of water was because I didn't want to have to wipe my kitchen up," she explained before spraying Bobby straight in the face.   
"Oh fuck !" he protested, rubbing it.   
"I don't need the two of you christening my kitchen, Fred and I already did it."  
  
Em threw a little glance to the counter around them and pressed herself closer to Bobby, hiding her face against his back to hide the fact she was about to burst out laughing. He could feel her little shaking against him and couldn't help a teasing smirk.   
"I think we should go, my dear," he told their host.  
  
Bobby and Emilie thanked Lana and Fred for their hospitality. They bid their goodbyes and found themselves back to the start of the evening : between their cars, Em's dog sleeping in hers.  
"I guess this is good night," she said.  
"Yeah. Fuck, Angel, I don't wanna leave ya."   
  
She laid a hand on his cheek and leaned in for a kiss. He knew she only meant to say good night but he deepened the kiss immediately, pulling her against his body. He was hard against her hip, the result of their little fun in the kitchen.    
"You know what's going to happy if we don't leave, Bobby."  
"I don't have condoms," he informed her. "And... I don't want this to happen in a car during a fucking cold night."  
  
But they wanted each other so much. They knew it would happen. They just needed an opportunity. It would come, one day, it would. In the meantime, it was a delicious pain, with a few releases from time to time.   
  
He was yearning for her, it showed on his face. It was poison in his blood, clouding his thoughts but making his heartbeat race. Emilie smiled at him and kissed Bobby again, pushing him against the side of his car.  
"Unlock it, Bob," she whispered.  
"Angel, what..."  
  
Did she want to make love with him here ? Now ? He could do it if she wanted but...   
"No," she answered, cutting his musings short. "Not yet... But..."   
  
She cupped him through his pants and he understood that she was as affected by him as he was by her. He unlocked the BMW.  
"Oh wait," he said. He let go of her to go start the engine. He pressed a button and came back. "Warming seats," he explained. "Better, no ?"  
  
He  opened the door to the backseats. His car was huge and they were tiny, which enabled them to be fully easily laid out on the backseat.    
  
Emilie nodded and pushed him inside the car. He sat and crawled back, helping himself with the bridge containing the backside control buttons linking the backseats to the front ones.  
  
He opened his arms to greet her and Em happily made her way up his body until their face were at the same level, wiggling her hips against his and brushing her breasts against him all the way. He was elated, bucking up to press his aching hard-on against her. She bent forward, raising up on all fours, and he moaned both for the loss of her warm center on his cock and at the tender kiss she bestowed him.  
  
She slid a hand between their bodies and rubbed his erection. His thighs tensed and she kissed him hard, stealing his mouth and stealing his breath.   
  
Bobby gasped when Emilie sat up on his thighs. She unlaced both their scarves and threw them on the passenger front seat. She slipped her hand under his polo shirt and raised it up to his throat. Em looked famished, as if he was a salmon fillet after a busy day at work. She trailed her hands down his chest, pinched his nipples, and when he reached out to her, she forced him to stay still with a light slap to his wandering fingers.   
  
It was cruel. Bobby wanted to touch her, to kiss her, to make her scream in pleasure right then and there, in this quiet suburbs, in his car, with an open door, parked in front of Lana's home. Fuck, he wanted to claim her.... Emilie stroked the area of skin just over the belt buckle with the pad of his thumb. He sighed, yearning for her.   
  
His cock hurt, begging his owner for some relief. It was pressing against the tented front of his jeans, an obsene sight. The clink of his buckle, the promising slide of the leather through metal, and Em's sinful smile as she whispered, "This belt could be interesting to play with..." inflamed him and his cock started to throb.   
  
He wanted to beg her to fuck him, to ride him into oblivion, until he was dead but not quite dead.  
  
Emilie's smile turned pervert at the noise of his fly opening and Bobby grinned back, glad to finally have some leeway. He raised his hips for her to lower his pants to his knees. From this point, she stroked her finger up to the hem of his underwears. She slid her whole hand inside and cupped his balls, massaging them delicately.  
  
Bobby whimpered and pressed the back of his head into the warm seat, biting his fist. His thighs were taut under Em, his body already on the edge.   
"Em, Em, stop... I wanna touch you, please, let me touch you..." he muttered, nearly incoherently.  
  
She grinned and shook her head. He narrowed his eyes and rolled her off him. They ended up chest to chest, plastered against each other, Em with her back against the seat. His upper arm closed around her, clinging not to fall, though the backseat command bridge gave his hips a support.   
"Emilie..." he whispered in reverence.  
  
She was still craddling his balls in her tiny hands but he wanted more. He asked for more. He wanted to pleasure her too, he wanted so many things. They worked together to push his boxers down to her knees, and his cock sprang up forward, touching her top. His precum leaking tip stained her top, a little wet round circle in the cloth.  
  
This sight filled him up with a ridiculous sense of triumph. He had managed to brand her with his very essence. He rationally knew it was stupid to feel this way, but he felt so proud he would have displayed his tail, had he been a peacock.   
  
Em crushed her mouth on his, her tongue opening his lips and he kissed her back with the same hunger. She hugged him tight with both arms, and he just rubbed himself against her clothed body like a rutting dog.   
  
Her nails clung to his shoulderblades through his polo shirt. He managed to loosen his hold on her enough to slip his upper hand between their bodies. He blindly tugged on her jeans buttons. Em's upper hand came to help, and they got it open. Perfect teamwork.   
  
He slipped his hand into her knickers, parted her damp curls and found her warm and slippery. She whimpered and kissed him again, moving his hips to get his fingers right where she wanted them. He kept on evading her, brushing her folds, caressing her next to her key spots but he refused to touch her properly.   
  
Her retaliation didn't wait : she took his cock in hand and gave it a pump, the foreskin uncovering the red tip. He yelped in pleasure, and pulled her forward to bury his fingers to the hilt inside her cunt.   
  
The both moaned in pleasure, panting. Bobby seeked her eyes with his own until he found them. She looked flushed, edgy but happy. Their bottom arms held the other close while they were giving each other pleasure with the upper one.   
  
Em tilted her hips forward and lifted a leg to hook her ankle behind the backseat headrest to give him a better access. Bobby smiled at Emilie and leaned his brow against hers, closing his eyes. Her scent filled his nostrils and the world suddenly got brighter. In the arms of the woman he... he was perfect.   
  
He felt a little peck on his nose and he grinned wider.  
  
He thrusted into her, flicking his thumb onto her clit, and she pumped him, twitsting her hand around the tip, changing speed, reaching down under him to rub his balls or the area behind them.  
"Em..."   
  
He couldn't help muttering against her lips, begging her to give him what he needed. When she squeezed his cock hard and ordered him to fuck her hand, Bobby obeyed, hiding his face in her throat, worrying the tender skin with his teeth.   
  
The hand in her knickers made her moan. The pleasure on her face, the little sounds escaping her mouth, the sweat sticking little tendrils of hair to her face made him feel wonderful... Complete.   
  
They came at the same time with loud moans, holding the other's shivering form tight.  As they cool down after she lowered her leg from the headrest, they exchanged little nuzzles and lazy kisses as they basked in the afterflow of their pleasure.   
  
Em searched the pocket of her coat and pulled paper kerchiefs out. She wiped her hands and his cock while he sucked on his fingers. She looked around as if waking up.   
"Oh fuck !" she exclaimed. "The door !"  
Bobby chuckled, and stroked her arm soothingly. "Yeah, it stayed open... We gave the neighbourhood a liveshow, with sounds and 3D."  
"Thank god no one called the jacks !"  
"Well, it's not because they aren't arrived yet that they've not been called, Angel," he teased her.   
  
Bobby sat up with a smile, observing Emilie. She was dishevelled and the fact she just had an orgasm was obvious from her happy smile and vague eyes. He stroked her hair, brushed his fingers to her cheekbones. The soft caresses stopped suddenly and she peaked up at him.  
"Bobby-" she started but he cut her off.  
"Oh fuck !"  
"What is it..?"  
"Give me a kerchief !" he ordered, panic piercing through her voice.   
She shoved one at him and he started to rub frantically the seat between them, especially at the spot where the two seats met.   
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck !" Bobby exclaimed, trying to insert the kerchief between the seats.   
"Bobby ?" Em asked, looking at him with deep confusion.  
"Fucking cum rolled down the fucking crease !"   
"So ?"  
"So ?" Bobby repeated. "My kids sit here !"  
  
She couldn't help it and laughed a little before she buttoned up her fly.   
"Dress up, Bob," she said. "You're looking like an idiot."  
He glanced down at his legs and lifted up his hips off the seat to pull up his pants and boxers.   
"You can clean once you're home," Em added. "You'll have products and better lighting. And, come on, who's going to notice ?"  
"Yeah right," he admitted gruffily.   
  
Emilie sat up by his side and took his hand. She leaned her head against his shoulder and he laid his own on hers, kissing her hair briefly.   
  
He knew he had to leave, they were working tomorrow, but the very thought of it twisted his guts. They both needed to sleep, but he couldn't bear the thought of saying goodbye. He could read in her behaviour she was bracing herself for it and it was hurting her too. He decided to do it for her, quickly as if he was ripping a bandage off.   
  
Bobby opened the door on his side and got out of the car. Emilie's eyebrows shot up in surprise and followed him out.   
  
Once out, they looked at each other and they met halfway, hugging each other hard, as hard as they could. The noise their bodies made when they slammed into each other echoed in the dark and empty street.   
"Angel, I'll be down your building in 7 hours," he whispered in her ear.   
  
He was trying to be the strong one but the truth was that he wanted to go wherever she went and spend the night with her. Bobby knew he was screwed. The deeper his feelings for Emilie started to run, the more difficult it was for him to go to his house in the evenings.  
  
Of course, seeing his kids was a joy but once they were in bed... he just stopped wanting to be there. Sleeping next to his wife felt wrong. Sleeping with his wife had become an affair of habit. He let his body act but his mind was with Em. Somehow, Anastasia hadn't noticed. It was a miracle. Maybe they were less in sync than he had thought.   
  
  
***  
  
Belle frowned at Hook, her hatred for him obvious.   
"Get out of my house !" she ordered him, pointing toward the kitchen backdoor.  
"Oh, I'm sure you don't mean it, love," the pirate replied with a seductive look. He moved to touch her but Belle took a step back, her hand moving to take a kitchen knife.  
"Cut !" the director called out.  
Colin grinned at Emilie. "That look in your eyes, sweets, I believe you could have killed me," he told her with a wink.   
She smiled back happily at him.   
  
Bobby smiled too. He was leaning on the wall of the studio, behind the technicians, watching Em filming without her realising it. He took out his phone, opened the camera application and took several pictures of Emilie smiling up at the younger man, trying not to be jealous she wasn't smiling at _him_ instead. Em was very friendly and known to be. It didn't stop him from yearning to be her only one, though.   
  
Lana leaned against the wall by his side.  
"I was expecting to find you outside smoking," she commented, smelling of cigarette.   
"I don't smoke anymore," he answered. Her scent triggered his longing for a good ole cig. Bobby lifted up his Tshirt sleeve and showed Lana a nicotine patch stuck to his biceps.   
"Dear god, you really are trying to stop."   
"Yeah of course I am, what the fuck do you mean, I'm really trying to stop ?"   
  
She just smiled mysteriously and held out a set of keys for him to take. Bobby frowned but took the keys. They were regular keys, like for a house, and one for a car.   
"You going on holidays and you want me to water your plants ?" he asked.   
Lana smiled, looking very smug and satisfied. "Nope. It's the keys to Fred's boat and family cabin on Pitt lake, in Coquitlam."   
Bobby looked confused.   
 She rolled her eyes. "Good god, Bobby, get a brain !" she said. "Romantic getaway with Miss Special ?"   
"Oh."  
  
He swallowed. It could be a very good plan, but his wife... Maybe if she left early for Scotland the week end of their departure, like on friday evening, or saturday morning... And he could fly on sunday evening... It would leave them a whole night. A full whole night and even up to 24 hours, in an isolated romantic place.   
"I don't have a boating licence," he protested.  
"You can hire a captain to accompagny you there and then to fetch you back."   
  
Bobby smiled a little, a gentle soft smile, as if he was a boy who just a good news. It took ten years off his face.   
"You're really the captain of our ship, as they say on the internet."   
Lana snorted. "I bet you two have a shipname, I'll look it up."   
"You think it's been seen ?"  
"It's likely, you two have the chemistry."  
"I see," he said.  
  
He looked at Emilie, who was joking and laughing with Colin. 24 hours alone with her. Yeah, he could make it happen. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, finally, the week end trip to the cabin !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to my beta :D

The iPhone was lukewarm from being held in his hand when Bobby finally composed the number of the marina Lana had given him. He hoped it wasn't someone who watched the TV show and who could recognize his voice or his accent. Thankfully, no one cared much about 'Once upon a time' in Vancouver. It was like 'Flash', 'Psych', 'Arrow', or 'Stargate' before, a mere TV show like a dozen others. And it was one of the few times he was actually glad his fame wasn't the mainstream kind.  
  
"Pitt River Marina," a feminine voice answered. "Hello. Can I help you ?"  
"Hello," Bobby said. "I'm calling on behalf of Fred Di Blasio. I would like to book his boat and a captain."  
  
The woman made a positive sound. "Yes, he said you'd call. Where and when do you wish to go, Sir ?"  
"To his cabin in Coquitlam for the next week end. The captain would take us there on the Saturday afternoon and fetch us back on the Sunday afternoon.."  
"Very well, we'll send someone to stock the cabin with food, water, wood and fuel for the generator, and do a little bit of cleaning."  
"The generator..?" Bobby was surprised.  
"It's very isolated, very far up Pitt River. It's not connected to running water, electricity or anything."  
"But... How would we wash ?"  
  
His astonishment was very obvious for the woman chuckled and explained, "There is a rain collector, and though it can't be drunk or cooked with, the boiler warms it and you can use it for the bathroom and the kitchen."  
"Oh, that's good."  
"So, at what time do we expect you on Saturday afternoon ?" she asked.  
"Around 2pm, and that's the time we'll have to be fetched."  
"Perfect. Your bill for the cleaning, the stocking and the captain will be 600 dollars, is that okay ?"  
"Yes," Bobby answered.  
"May I have a name to finalize the booking ?"  
"Robert Carlyle."  
"Very well, Mister Carlyle, your booking is done. Do you know where our marina is ?"  
"Not really. I can check google if you give me the address."  
"It is situated 1770 Fremont Street, in Port Coquitlam between the the CPR rail bridge and the Pitt River traffic bridge."  
"Okay."  
"Any questions ?" the woman asked again.  
"No. Thank you for your help."  
"Thank you for your call, Mister Carlyle. Have a nice day, bye."  
"Thanks. Bye."  
  
He hung up, feeling like a hole had opened beneath his feet. He had proactively organized an adultery. Before, he could have argued that he was just taking opportunities, but not anymore.  
  
He needed to call Emilie and let her know they were going to spend a night in a cozy getaway. Bobby smiled and texted her, in case she was working.  
'Hey Angel, are you available ?'  
'Yes. Between takes.'  
  
He called her immediately. She took his call and he gave her the good news. Emilie was overjoyed but her voice shook a little.  
"Em ? Are you alright ?" he asked, frowning.  
"Yes, yes, I'm alright. Just a bit emotional, that’s all.”  
  
He stayed silent hoping she would elaborate but she didn’t. Bobby insisted. “Emotional in a good way ?”  
She chuckled and he could feel a knot of anxiety dissolve in his guts. “Yes, of course, Silly ! I’m glad to spend time with you, of course.”  
  
Bobby smiled and breathed in relief. “I’m glad.”  
  
The next days happened in the same fashion, Bobby and Emilie working with the cast and crew, having nice little moments together  during the breaks.  
  
Lana teased him mercilessly, having discovered some group on the internet had noticed their chemistry and had even given them a ship name : Remilie. She then self-proclaimed Captain of that ship, since she was doing all the work for him.  
Bobby rolled his eyes so hard Lana burst out laughing.  
“Oh come on, there are pictures, gifs, videos of the two of you making lovey dovey eyes at each other during interviews. You two are just so obvious. I know the touching is quite recent but the loving is not and it shows,” she said.  
“Yeah. I wonder why people don’t notice more.”  
She shrugged. “The blindest people are the ones who don’t want to see,” Lana answered wisely. “You have a family man reputation and they cling to this perfect image because it is reassuring. You have a happy marriage after two decades, so theirs will be. It’s a pedestal thing, and whatever threatens it is an evil thing to be eradicated.”  
  
Bobby frowned, perplexed and a bit confused. “Eradicated ? Who do they think they are ? My moral guardians ?”  
She chuckled and shrugged again, “They protect this image they have of you, the perfect reflection of their fantasy life.”  
“They don’t know me,” he said. “They… are delusional.”  
Lana could only agree. “They muzzle the part of the fandom who is not like them, so you and Miss Special are quite good. You two could be filmed eating and kissing in a restaurant, they’d say you’re rehearsing or acting rumbelle out of hours.”  
“Fucking morons…”  
  
She nodded. Bobby shook his head in disbelief and grabbed his script to go work, removing any thoughts of fans from his mind. Time for Rumplestiltskin to emerge.  
  
*  
  
Finally, finally, the week end arrived. That week had been the longest ever but finally the day had come.  
  
It was Saturday.  
  
Separating himself from his children, even for 48 hours, was an ordeal for Bobby. He had spent years alone in Vancouver before Anastasia arrived with his kids. From the moment, he had had them in this life again, he couldn’t live without them again. They were the joy of his life. He was overjoyed to see his wife again, of course, but he had given priority to his three little gems.  
  
He drove them to the airport. He hugged his children goodbye, whispering words of love in their ears before letting go. He was tempted to say ‘screw it’ and leave with them but he refrained. He had no way of knowing when and if he could have such a week end again, so he clenched his teeth and watched them leave, after he kissed his wife goodbye.  
  
He stayed after they had passed boarding and went back to his BMW. He drove back to his house to pack a suitcase. He took basic hygiene items, a change of clothes and PJs. He didn’t think he’d need those, but one never knew. The weather was getting colder and colder and Fred’s cabin was in the middle of the forest by a lake. He didn’t think it’d be too warm.  
  
He texted to warn Emilie, reminded her to take warm clothes. He knew she’d think of it, of course but Bobby was a man who took care of his family. He wouldn’t have felt good if he hadn’t warned her. If he had done nothing, and she turned out without a jumper, believing the cabin would have been heated, he would have felt bad. Now, it was done, he was relieved she had the info. But then, it was nearly -20° Celcius, of course she’d have taken warm clothes.  
  
Bobby rolled his eyes at himself, wondering if Emilie thought he was an overbearing ass who thought her stupid. However, he knew she knew how he was, and wouldn’t take this for what it was not.  
His phone beeped. Em had sent him a picture, showing she was wearing a heavy wool sweater. It was covering her but didn’t hide her figure. He could see the outline of her breasts and his mouth dried at the thought of sucking them again.  
  
He put on a warm and thick wool jacket, a scarf and gloves, and winter boots. He grabbed his bag and put it in the trunk of the car, comparing what he had taken to his mental list, and realized he had forgotten condoms.  
“Fuck !”  
  
He would have let out a longer streak of swear words but there were people passing by and he didn’t want to draw attention. He lived in quite a posh area, like a lot of fellow actors, but the fewer people knowing about it, the better.  
  
He grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose. Oh screw it, he didn’t have time to get a box by a courier, he’d just go to a drugstore, hoping no one recognized him.  
He texted Emilie, letting her know he was leaving his house and that he’d be there within the hour.  
  
The Bridge going from West Van to Downtown was quite crowded , as always, and it took more than half an hour to cross it. He stopped to the first convenience store he saw fitting. He went for a little shop rather than a big one, thinking there would be less chances to find a tourist in there. He was right. Only the owner, a big burly man in his sixties was there.  
  
Bobby found himself in the hygiene row, finding the condoms between sanitary pads and bandages. He was a bit overwhelmed by the sheer number of different kinds of them. He hadn’t bought them in ages, and it seemed the offer had exploded during those years.  
  
He took a random box and paid for it, and he was back in his car. He added them to the bag in his trunk and drove to Em’s. He called her when he was parked down her building and waited for her.  
  
Emilie joined him, dressed as if she was leaving for a hike on the floe, from scarf to gloves, and they drove toward Port Coquitlam. The little Marina was a muddy place with around twenty boats by the Pitt River bridge and the trans Canada trail bridge. An electricity pylon was planted in the middle of the street near it. There was a little parking lot nestled amongst the trees. If the ground had not been frozen, they would have had dirt up to their knees  
  
Bobby was a bit worried to leave his car there but Emilie pointed out the fact it was an enclosure and there was a grilled gate. He would have preferred a guard and a security camera but Emilie retorted, “Oh come on, Bob, it will be fine.”  
“Yeah but what if someone comes around and notices my car ? Sees us coming back ?”  
She came to him, a determined expression all over her, and touched his lips with her finger.  
“Stop this,” she said, wanting to reassure him. Her love was a bit paranoid at being found out but, here ? In the middle of nowhere ? At this time of year ? No one knowing them would come, apart from Lana and Fred. “It’s fine,” she added. “Trust me…”  
  
Bobby looked at her, and nodded with a big breath. “Yeah. I do. Sorry.” He pecked her gloved finger and went behind the car.  
  
He retrieved their bags and he carried them to the white house at the beginning of the wooden dock. He left the bags and Emilie outside with a kiss, not wanting her to see him pay for their week end. He felt a pang of guilt at letting her out in the cold while he was in a heated place and he resolved to be as quick as possible.  
  
“Hello Sir,” the lady said.  
“Hey,” he replied. “Robert Carlyle. I booked a pilot for a sailing to Mister Di Blasio’s cabin.  
The woman nodded. “Yes, I remember. Captain Jake is on Mister Di Blasio’s boat, location 12 on the dock. The cabin has been cleaned and fully stocked.”  
“Very good.”  
  
Bobby took out his wallet, thick from banknotes, and paid the 600 dollars in cash. He didn’t want to leave a credit card trail in his bank papers. His wife wasn’t the one who took care of the accounts but better be safe than sorry.  
  
The woman took the payment and gave Bobby a contract to sign. He did and left her his copy. If he took it, Emilie could find it in his pocket and he knew that she’d insist to pay her share if she had any inkling of the price of their week end. Better be safe than sorry. It was becoming his motto.  
  
He went outside and gave Emilie a sweet kiss on the mouth as he passed by her, squeezing her fingertips before releasing her and taking the bags.  
“Dock number 12, Em,” he informed her. “Lead the way ?”  
  
She gave him a wide smile, bright, incandescent, and it turned his insides into some kind of happy goo, sparkling and exploding into his soul. He gave her a smile that was way too ninny for a man his age, but there was something about her that made him stop and stand at attention for her.  
  
She walked in front of him and of course, he grunted in frustration since her moncler covered her down to her knees. He wondered if the boat trip would allow him to wrap his arms around Em and snuggle, while sightseeing the Golden Ears and the Pitt Meadows.  
  
Emilie stopped and Bobby nearly rammed into her.  
Captain Jake was a man of the sea and it showed. He looked a bit like a cliché, from the cap with an anchor to the pipe in his mouth. Bobby hoped it was a sign of professionalism and the man wouldn’t sink them in the middle of the Pitt River. It would be quite an embarrassment to explain.  
  
“Good afternoon,” Captain Jake greeted them. He introduced himself and took the bags to secure them on the boat so that they didn’t fall overboard during the trip  
  
“Here are lifejackets and you are to wear them until you are on the dock at your cabin,” he instructed, giving them a bright orange lifejacket each.  
  
He showed them how to put it on and how to activate it in case of a fall. He put one on himself with a certain reluctance.  
  
The sailor was obviously a no-nonsense man, used to giving orders and being obeyed. He spoke in a curt way but always polite.  
He helped out Bobby to get onboard, then both men helped Emilie doing so.  
  
Captain Jake let them settle down in a corner bench, smiling a little as the couple sought each other’s embrace.  
  
Bobby kissed Emilie’s hair and whispered sweet nothings into it. He meant to tell her how happy he was to be here with her but his words were inaudible. The fog from cold escaping him made her a halo but wetted her ear. She dried it with her glove and interlaced her fingers to his.  
  
The Captain showed them a map and asked them to confirm the location of the cabin they were heading to. He looked at the paper a few more seconds and announced, “The trip will take about 45 minutes. This boat is a leisure one, it wasn’t meant for speed and stamina. I can’t force the engines because of the cold.” He grinned and joked. “There might be ice too, and we don’t want to reenact the titanic, right ?”  
  
He laughed at his own joke and went behind the wheel to start the engines. A loud thunder and a trembling were born under their feet and Bobby hugged Emilie tighter to himself, his protective instincts taking over. She rubbed her thumb against his, and he kissed her brow in acknowledgement. Whatever he was doing, she noticed. For the first time, he wondered how long he had been under her scrutiny, if it was as long as the time he had spent observing her.  
  
Her eyes crinkled in happiness when the boat left the marina and passed under the bridges to start their getaway trip north. It was quite a pleasant time, wrapped up around her, his face against hers, sharing smiles and kisses.  
  
Sea water drops flew all around them from the jumps the boat was making over the waves. They were both splashed and Bobby made sure to wipe the drops on Emilie’s face with the pad of his thumb.  
  
She took a deep breath, smelling the bay around them. The further north they went, the further into wildness they went. City left room to woods and mountains. The cabin they were going to was only accessible by boat, the forest around being too thick to build a road. The river was wide and quite deserted. They could see ice on the shores and on the trees. Over the forest, the gorgeous twin mountains called “golden ears” dominated the bay. It was breathtakingly majestic.  
  
Finally, a cabin a wide railed porch all around appeared. It was tiny but pretty. It was built with wood, a stone chimney crown protruded from the tile roof with a metal cup on top. A pebbled path linked the cabin to an old dock.  
  
“We’ve arrived,” Captain Jake announced happily.  
  
Bobby took Emilie’s hand while the sailor moored the ship. The two men put the bags on the dock and helped Em out. Once safely on the ground, they thanked the Captain.  
“No problem,” he answered. “I’ll be back tomorrow around 2:30pm. Is this okay for you ?”  
“Yeah,” Bobby answered.  
  
They said their goodbyes and watched the boat depart, hand in hand.  
  
They turned to the cabin.  
  
Bobby felt suddenly very shy. He realized what was about to happen. He would make love with Emilie de Ravin. He knew it. The certainty of this fact hit him in the face. He cleared his throat.  
“Bobby ?”  
  
He forced himself to focus on her eyes, bright and clear, hypnotizing. His heart beat faster.  
Emilie squeezed his hand. “Let’s go inside, I’m freezing.”  
  
It launched Bobby into motion. He let go of her hand and carried the bags to the porch.  
The key Lana gave him opened the door easily and a wave of heat greeted them.  
“Oh god it is great !” Emilie exclaimed, closing and locking the door once they were inside.  
  
Inside, the cabin was as charming as the outside. It was one big room with a closed one at their right. ‘Probably the bathroom,’ Bobby thought. Next to the bathroom, the kitchen part, and the rest was the living area. There was a huge fireplace heating the whole place. A couch and a bed faced it. There was a thick rug all over the place, and it was warm. There was no fire yet so the heat came from the heaters. Logs covered a wall to half its height for them to use, and there were books on the other side of the room. A table with four chairs was in the middle of the room, and two recliners were by the door, ready to be pulled onto the porch if they felt inclined to sit outside.  
  
Bobby’s face was pulsing and now that he was thawing, he realized how cold he was. His upper body was fine but his thighs were nearly frozen.  
“Emilie ? Are you alright ?” he asked.  
“Yes, darling…” she answered.  
  
Her face reddened as blood came back to it. He carried the bags to the bed and settled them onto it. Emilie stayed near the door, strangely still.  
“Em ?” he called to her again, smiling at her. “We’ve arrived. You can relax now.”  
“I know.”  
  
Bobby removed his coat and Em imitated him. She motioned to him to come give it to her and he obeyed. She hung them on the coat rack and he gave her a kiss on the cheek in thanks.  
  
He caught the scent of her perfume and sighed happily. He took her hand and led her through the house, giving her a tour. She was a little tense so he tried to get her to relax, though he had a tightness in his own chest.  
“So, here, Milady, we have the bathroom, with a nice bathtub and the toilets,” he announced with the voice of an oily car seller. “Pristine condition, check the pipes !”  
  
He winked at her in an over the top manner, and Emilie cracked up. He followed her and described the kitchen “Pastoral and rustic”, and the couch “rock’n roll and vintage”. Em was laughing her gorgeous ass off as he finished, “And around the monumental fireplace, made of stones imported from Carrara, Italy, might I say. And here’s the bed…”  
  
His voice trailed off as he contemplated it. She sobered up and wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself to his side. His own arm was delightfully cushioned by her breasts and her belly.  
“It’s a bit impressive, heh,” she said, her accent thicker than usual.  
“Yeah…”  
  
The tenseness was suddenly back. It wrapped itself around his lungs and choked him. He needed a distraction. Turning around, he led Emilie to the chimney.  
“Would you like me to build you a fire ?” Bobby asked suddenly, nodding toward .  
“Can you actually do it ?”  
“Yeah, of course… My father taught me.”  
  
Em softened and squeezed his arm before kissing cheek.  
“I can do it, if you want,” she offered.  
“You can ?” he asked back, his eyebrows raising toward his hairline.  
She nodded, looking proud of herself.  
Bobby added, “I thought you were a precious little ballerina in your youth ?”  
“Yes, but I lived in Australia and there, everything wants to kill you. So, basic survival skills are taught in school.”  
  
He stared at her, his face frozen in a ‘what the fuck’ expression. She held his gaze as long as she could before bursting out in laughter.  
“No, it’s not ! My family used to go camping ! Oh my god, your face !”  
  
He started to sulk, looking away from her.  
“You’ll build the fucking fire, then !” he growled.  
Emilie chuckled and grabbed him by the shoulder. She turned him around, sharing a breath with him, and she pulled him down. She kissed his pout away, her plump lips erasing the sourness of his expression.  
  
She pushed him down onto the couch, and he followed her wordless order. Emilie went to close the curtains and grab several logs to place in the chimney. She used some papers and firelighters and soon a nice fire was roaring in the fireplace. The room was plunged in the shadows, and with the firelight, the room was cosy and intimate. Em noticed parallel nicks in the hearth and made a little face as she sat down with Bobby.  
“We should come back in summer,” she said, taking his hand. “We could fish and grill what we catch.”  
Bobby snorted. “Not sure I have the fucking patience, Angel.”  
“I’ll do the fishing, then. The landscape is gorgeous, I wouldn’t mind.”  
  
Emilie smiled and examined his hand between hers. She was fascinated by its hidden strength. The round bluntness of his knuckles mesmerized her and she ran her fingertips to them before petting the thin hairs on their back. She felt them more than she saw them, and she turned his hand to see his palm. Lines and calluses were etched in it, telling the harsh story of his life. As for his fingers… She pressed her thighs together, squirming just by looking at them and knowing what they could do. She raised her eyes to his and gasped when she saw Bobby’s eyes on her face.  
  
He was staring at her, pupils dilated, mouth slightly open from panting. His eyes were blazing, and she caught her breath. She traced a path up his arm, and he dipped, leaning his brow on hers, letting her close the distance to kiss him. She did.  
  
In the end, it was easy. He realized the pressure he had put on his own shoulders. He had wanted the moment to be perfect for his Princess but he wasn't perfect and he was scared anything he attempted fell short of his own expectations so he didn't do anything at all. Now was enough. It was the time to take risks.  
  
He was sure Emilie would forgive any shortcoming he could have. He covered her mouth with his own. Her hands buried in his hair, scratching the nape of his neck. His own were resting on his lap, trying to keep still, his cock was throbbing inside his jeans. He wanted to reach out, lay her down onto the couch to devour her, consume her with his love and the fire of his passion. Emilie was his world.  
  
She caressed his shoulders, his arms, before embracing him tighter. Without breaking the kiss, he kneeled between her legs in front of the couch, his hands on either side of her.  
"Oh Bobby..." she moaned against his mouth.  
  
Her caresses on his back kept sending lightning bolts down his spine into his loins.  
"Hold me," she ordered.  
  
Bobby obeyed, wrapping his arms around her to hug her tight. His kisses grew urgent and ravenous. His cock hurt him and his mind was filled with lewd and animalistic images. He couldn't wait, he just couldn't wait. He straightened, trying to take control of the kiss and the move made her feel his hardness against her belly. He felt her smile against his lips and he growled ferally in desperate want. His knuckles whitened as he pressed her against him even tighter.  
  
Emilie pushed him off and he moaned at the loss. However, she slipped her fingers under the hem of his sweater and lifted it to remove it. It fell to the floor and she took him back in her arms again. She peppered her face with tiny kisses before Bobby hid his face in her throat. She smelled so good, like sunshine and love, like rainy afternoons spent in bed... He licked the little patch of skin to know if she tasted as good as she smelled, and god... she did.  
  
He fisted her jumper and forced himself to let go to pull it over her head, throwing it down. He kissed her again, grinding himself against her belly, seeking relief for his erection. She escaped his arms again, and he watched her trying to remove her bra with trembling fingers and frustrated sighs. The clasp was between the cups so he could see her efforts. He took over, not really doing better. After a while of uselessly pinching the garment, he let his brow hit her shoulder.  
"Oh god, we're a fucking mess," he whispered dejectedly.  
  
Emilie giggled and petted his hair with affection, trying to stop laughing.  
"We're a beautiful fucking mess," she corrected, cupping his face to have him look at her.  
"Yeah, we are."  
  
He took a deep breath, and forced himself to shake out his feverish thoughts to focus on the clasp. Now that he was calmer, the bra fell open in less than ten seconds and Bobby lifted it like a trophy with a large triumphant smile. Emilie laughed and snatched it out of his hands to throw it behind the couch. She was flushed, grinning and panting like him.  
  
His hands seemed to have been made to cup her breasts ; it was the only explanation to the utter perfection of his hold on them. He brushed his palms over her nipples and he refrained a moan when they pebbled. He leaned in and sucked one, his now free hand wrapping around her back to prevent her from leaning away from him. He kept up his ministrations until she squirmed, until she arched her back because she was too sensitive. His prick threatened to burst out of his fly. He ached, it was almost too much to bear.  
  
Emilie grabbed his hair, pulling his face to hers, to demand in a sultry voice,  
"Kiss me."  
  
He did gladly, his tongue stroking hers. Her nails raked his scalp, and the slight pain aroused him more. Removing his jeans was starting to become a necessity but he couldn't bring himself to let go of her breasts.  
  
Bobby rested his brow on Emilie's, smiling softly, taking her hands in his.  
"Maybe we could move to the bed ?" he suggested in a thick accent.  
  
Making out on the couch was pleasant but this was not enough, not anymore. This was their moment, what they came here for. She interlaced her fingers in his and squeezed. Emilie pulled him to her and pecked his mouth tenderly.  
"Yes," she replied, her smile growing bigger.  
  
She got up and he found his face at the level of her belly. He could not help licking her soft skin, barely hearing her moan over the rush of blood in his ears. That close, he could feel her warmth radiating, and it was scorching him.  
  
Bobby got to his feet too, and let her go sit on the bed and unbutton her Uggs. He went to the entrance of the cabin. He turned the lights off and locked the door before putting his bag on the table. He opened it, finding the box of condoms he had bought earlier above his folded clothes. He took it and brought it to Emilie who was lounging on her side.  
"What is this ?" she asked, squinting her eyes to see the box in the semi darkness. The fire in the fireplace was the only light of the room now.  
"Condoms," he answering, giving them to her.  
  
She read the package and chuckled. "Fun mix ?"  
"I took a random box," he tried to justify, sharing her laugh.  "Fun mix should be fun, at least."  
"Oh, I intend to have some fun," Emilie replied with an inviting look.  
  
Bobby sat by her side and took off his boots and socks too. He wiggled his toes to make her laugh before opening his belt and sliding it off his jeans. It fell onto the rug with a thud. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and pulled him down onto his back. Emilie straddled him and bit her bottom lip in a shy manner that contradicted her actions.    
  
She placed her hands on his chest and rubbed her centre against his cock. He could feel her heat through their jeans and he growled to have more. The friction was welcome, of course, but he yearned to have his cock deep inside her. Emilie caressed the softness of Bobby’s tummy. She bit her bottom lip and smiled at him slyly before opening his jeans. He shivered and stilled his hand on her thighs, moving to her fly.  
  
Emilie dismounted him and helped him to sit up. Bobby lifted his hips to let her remove his trousers.  She folded them and strolled to place them on the couch. She poked the fire and put two logs in it to gain more light.  
  
Bobby observed her. Watching her handle his clothes gave him a lump in his throat. Before he knew what he was doing, he was behind her as she was straightening. She gasped when she saw him there, a hand to her chest.  
“I didn’t hear you !” she exclaimed with a playful slap to his shoulder.  
  
He kneeled at her feet wordlessly, and hooked his fingers at the belt of her jeans. He lowered them, his fingertips brushing the length of her legs. She stepped out of them and her pants and panties joined his on the couch, courtesy of Bobby.  
  
He swept her off her feet, carrying her to the bed. He was suddenly very solemn, but a giggling Emilie wrapping her arms around his neck for a big hug snapped him out of his trance. She laughed happily. She had the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard, and it was his favorite sound in the universe right next to his kids’.  
  
Emilie stroked his face, exploring, learning the geography of his features. As her fingers passed his lips, Bobby couldn’t help licking them, drawing them into his mouth. She protested it was tickling her, so he kept nibbling them, anything so that she didn’t stop laughing.  
  
He deposited her in the middle of the bed, and lay down by her side. He watched her for a long time, just wanting to carve the moment in his brain and in his heart. He had the impression of being a blushing teenager on his first time. It was as if the world had stopped around them and only they existed.  
  
Bobby shivered when he saw her pupils had dilated. He reached out to her and pulled her against him, hugging her tight. They kissed over and over, their hands mapping each other’s bodies. They released a whimper when his cock rubbed against her slippery folds. He tried to control himself, he bit his lips not to let his instincts take over. He didn’t want to come now.  
  
Emilie grabbed the box of condoms while Bobby kept assaulting her senses with hungry kisses and touches to her clit. She managed to tear the box open, condoms falling everywhere on the bed and on the floor. She patted the blanket blindly until she located one with her hand. She pushed Bobby firmly onto his back and opened the foil. She took the condom out — textured and ribbed — and slid it onto his hard and quivering cock.  
  
Once it was done, he grasped her forearms and she obeyed his silent command. They rolled over and suddenly, he was on all fours over her and he knew suddenly. That was the moment. Eyes into hers, his hands guided her legs to close around his waist. He entered her slowly. His eyes closed and he hissed in bliss. Emilie pulled him down for a kiss. He didn’t know if he should open his eyes to witness the pleasure playing on her face or if he should keep his eyes shut to enjoy their kiss. He started a slow rhythm, his hips moving to thrust into her. He bit his lip and hid his face in her throat, the scent of her shampoo making him light-headed.  
  
All Bobby knew was that he never wanted the moment to end. He wanted to savor it forever. He was connected to Emilie in a way he had never been connected to anyone before. He couldn’t bring himself to regret everything he had done to be there. Being in her was worth it. Bobby was born to make love to her, he realized it. He was lost in the feeling of belonging to her, and the pleasure her nails raking his back brought cleansed his soul.  
  
He stopped his moves, not wanting to release himself yet, and Emilie groaned in frustration. She flipped them off, and she smiled at seeing his hair around his face like a halo. She petted him and he grunted at the waves of pleasure she bestowed him.  
  
Emilie started to ride him, seeking her bliss on his cock. She used her hands on his chest for leverage to rise and fall on him. She suddenly arched her back, leaning backward, and flat on his back as he was, he couldn’t support her. He reached up blindly and laced his fingers to her trembling ones. She kneaded her breast with her other hand before pinching her nipple, and it was all he could do not to come at that moment.  
  
Above him, Emilie was grinding herself down on him. Her eyes were shut, she was snarling and she was letting loud and incoherent sounds escape her mouth. She fucked him faster and faster, seeking her release as if her mind had lost the control of her body. Bobby pressed his thumb to the place where their body met and rubbed her engorged clit. Watching his cock disappear into her body and reappear again and again was too much and he dropped back his head into the pillow. He was half dead and he was sure his brain would blow out his skull to escape soon.  
  
Em fell apart with a scream, and he recorded everything in his memory. She shouted huskily, and everything primal in him responded to her. He groaned her name, his bones vibrated inside his muscles and his vision flashed white. How he managed not to spill himself, he didn’t know but he was happy.  
  
She slumped onto him, boneless, panting, twitching, a mass of spent and spasming pleasure. Bobby let her catch her breath for a minute, whispering sweet nonsense in her ear before he helped her off and onto her back in his spot. Her eyes were closed and she was still recovering from her orgasm. He settled down between her legs one more and he was home again with a tilt of his hips. He shuddered and covered her mouth with his, starting a very slow rhythm and enjoying her warmth around his cock. She kissed him back and pawed his hair, tangling his locks around her fingers.  
  
It was the most intense moment of his life, as if he had been a virgin before meeting her and he was being made a man. Whatever was between them deepened with every thrust. He was addicted to her taste, her scent, her soft skin against his, to their sweat mixing between their bodies. She moaned in his ear and he was instantly addicted to these too.  
  
He felt on the edge again, and he met her eyes. He saw in them the same expression he knew his reflected when he was looking at her. It was love. Pure unadulterated love of the most intense and overwhelming kind.  
  
He came hard with a hoarse shout, and Emilie was there to anchor and cradle him as he came down from his high, stroking his hair soothingly.  
“I love you,” he whispered against his throat.  
  
She tensed under his sprawled form before she relaxed and muttered back, “I love you too.”  
  
The realization she felt the same put him on fire and he crushed his mouth on hers, curtaining her face with his hair. Of course his love was not unrequited. They shared the chemistry, their connection ; whatever was in his heart was bound to be in hers too. Emilie was probably aware of her love for him before he had been. Her declaration didn’t have the same awe of realization his had. He was an idiot for not having recognized it sooner. He never stood a chance against her, just as she never stood a chance against him. Fate had mocked them in so many ways : born on the opposite sides of Earth, two decades apart, it was a miracle they met. And yet…  
  
Bobby got up from the bed, needing a few moments to come around with the biggest slap he had ever received. He removed the condom and threw it in the trash bin before washing his hands. He leaned on them on the kitchen counter, staring at it without really seeing it. So much time lost, so much time wasted because he couldn’t identify his feelings. He was a fucking moron.  
  
Emilie tiptoed behind him and laid a blanket on his shoulders. Despite the fire, this corner of the cabin was dark and they couldn’t see each other clearly. Bobby smiled sadly at her mindfulness. She was precious, his Emilie. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, and rested her face on his shoulder. He turned around to take her in his arms, realizing she too was wrapped in a blanket and she was the embodiment of everything adorable. He melted in her arms and kissed her deeply, his newfound feelings crashing against her mouth, like waves on the beach. He rested his brow on hers and repeated firmly, clenching his fists in her blanket, “I love you, Emilie.”  
  
Her hand flew to his face and she rubbed her thumb to the side of his nose.  
“I love you too, my Bobby.”  
  
They chuckled together, their grin threatening to split their face in two, like teenagers in love again. They shared several little kisses, clutching each other tight, not wanting to part.  
  
However, they were still naked and the floor was quite cold. When Bobby noticed Emilie shivering a little, he suggested, “Em, how about you go sit on the couch while I fix us some drinks ?”  
  
She nodded and strutted there, a happy kick in her step. He watched her go, grinning widely, before checking the cupboards. He found a bottle of red wine, Saint-Estèphe.  
“Em ?” he called out. “Red wine ?”  
“Sure !”  
  
Bobby opened the wine, and smelled the alcohol. It was lightly woody and elegant, which pleased him. He took two glasses and the bottle, a nice château Montrose 1999, not a bad year. He joined her on the couch, gave her one glass and poured a little wine, waiting for her to taste. She did and her eyes lit up in joy. So, he filled both glasses, put the bottle on the floor and they clinked them together.  
“To us,” Emilie toasted.  
“To us,” he repeated before they drank together.  
  
The Château Montrose tasted rich and heady. It wasn’t explosive, it was like a silky flow of little berries. Very elegant, indeed.  
  
The firelight gave her skin a warm tone and the shadow play on her face made her mysterious and sexy. Bobby shuddered at the thought of licking wine off Emilie’s body in the firelight… No man could resist her and he felt fucking lucky she had chosen him. Maybe Fate had done things well ? They had met and had found each other still.  
  
Emilie drank her wine slowly, slumped against his side. Bobby kissed her hair. The moment was almost perfect. If only they shared a blanket instead of having each their own. She sighed, and he wondered if it was contentment or boredom. He regretted not having taken his guitar to entertain her. The room was fully silent except for the cracking of the fire and the occasional wildlife out in the surrounding forest. It was comfortable, of course, but maybe he could try making small talk in case she was bored.  
"You okay ?" he asked, his hand squeezing her shoulder.  
"Super," Em replied, her impossible blue eyes flashing a smile at him. "Just thinking."  
"Penny for your thoughts ? I bet they're worth more, but it's all I have."  
  
Emilie snorted and pinched his inner thigh. "I don't want to ruin you, Babe. I was thinking that we could have been together for nearly a decade now."  
"How so ?"  
"I was in 'Lost', and I know Adam and Eddy had offered you the part of Charlie and then Desmond ?"  
"Yeah, yeah… It was a long time ago. I know they wanted me but I don't know really what for," he told her before nuzzling her head.  
  
He had declined so many parts around 2004 when the casting of 'Lost' was made. Ava was barely two and Harvey was just born. He didn't fancy leaving them to live on a fucking island and not being there for them.  
"Charlie and Desmond were my character's love interests," Emilie explained.  
  
A silence.  
  
"Fuck," he ended up saying, impressed. "Seems Adam and Eddy really wanted to see us together."  
  
It could be a book, really. Two times Robert Carlyle didn't get cast as Emilie de Ravin's boyfriend and one time he did. He was glad he did, really. He chuckled, thinking of how disappointed Lana would be at knowing she'd never really be the "Captain of their ship."  
  
Emilie nodded and reached underneath the blanket to caress his leg, tracing little figures on his skin with her nails. He shivered, trying not to let her see how it affected him.  
"Yeah," she said. "I'm sure my 23 years old self would have had the mightiest of crushes on you. You would have scared me to death, though."  
  
Somehow, it hurt him. Not like an insult, since it was a hypothetical situation, but the very idea of him scaring her was unbearable.  
"Why ?" he asked a bit loudly.  
"This… This thing between us…" she started before shaking her head and restarted. "Our love… It's powerful.  If I had felt back then what I feel for you now, I would have been confused. I didn't know it was possible to feel so much before you."  
  
Bobby swallowed hard but the sudden lump in his throat refused to disappear. He could relate to everything she was saying. A wildfire blazed in his chest. He had never loved so intensely and he hadn't thought he could do it either. Emilie looked at him and added, "You would have ruined me. If I had known what love really was, I would never have settled for Josh."  
"Maybe it's better that I didn't accept the parts, then…" he whispered in a sad reply.  
  
He would never want to ruin her. At least, if she had married that guy, it meant she had feelings for him. It chocked him. His mouth turned down suddenly and he was happy she couldn't see his face, because he was sure his expression was not pretty right now. He could not stand the thought of her being married, despite the hypocrisy of the situation.  
   
Emilie barked a sudden laugh. "He was nice but it would never have worked in the long run. It was super bland. Pleasant at first, but dull. I sent him the divorce papers ages ago but he's being an ass and doesn't want to sign them."  
  
Bobby did his best to relax his jaw and untighten his fists. He hated the guy. He hated the lucky bastard who was her husband. He tried calming down, really. He couldn't let his jealousy ruin their week end. He craned his neck, kissing her hair, her temple, her cheek, the corner of her lips, and finally, her mouth. Her blessed mouth against which he was washing his sins. He wanted more, he needed more, he nudged her lips open with his tongue, played with hers. He brushed the tip of his tongue to the roof of her mouth, and felt her smile at his tickling.  
  
Emilie broke off the kiss and observed him with hooded eyes. She opened her mouth to talk but a loud grumbling noise escaped her stomach. The tenseness disappeared and Bobby chuckled.  
"'K, I get it, Angel."  
  
He disentangled himself from her and went to put on some clothes. He didn't mind nudity during sex, but cooking naked while she looked was past his boundaries. So, dressed in T-shirt, socks and boxer, he put the water from a bottle to boil.  
  
Emilie got up and fully dressed. She put on her boots and coat. With a kiss to his cheek and a “I’m gonna walk around !", she left.  
  
Bobby found pasta and a can of pesto sauce. He wasn't much of a fan of canned sauce, but with a no-meat-eating lover, he couldn't really open a can of ham. There was no cream, nothing with which he could do a scampi carbonara. So, he made do. After a while, the pot, full of warm pasta pesto, was ready. He set the table, humming to himself. He regretted not having taken his guitar. He could have played for them.  
  
He cracked the door of the cabin open, keeping it ajar to minimize the cold coming into the cabin. As he peeked through, his face and half his body got icy. As the sun was setting, the temperature was going even lower. He shivered brutally and shouted, "EM !"  
  
No answer. Only the river, and the wind blowing through the trees. He grew instantly worried. He could still see their steps in the snow from their arrival, and Em's steps going toward the right when she left earlier.  
  
He turned the cooker off and dressed too, warmly. He grabbed a flashlight, just in case. The cabin was equipped with a satellite phone to call the marina, in case of troubles. He took it too. Bobby grew worried, why had he let her go on her own ? She had probably fallen in a hole between bushes and rocks. If she was wounded - or worse…  
   
He dashed out of the wooden house and received a snowball in his face. Emilie's laugh made him freeze and the weight of the world fell off his shoulders. He dropped the phone and the flashlight when she targeted him again and he ran to shelter behind the wall. He located Emilie behind the bushes on the other side when several snowballs passed by his head. The woman could aim, for fuck sake !  
  
He started circling the cabin to turn the tables on her, gathering snow in his hands. When he checked the place where she was hidden, Em attacked him. He received a rain of snow balls before being tackled down. He fell in a thick layer of it, cushioning her fall. Lips found his, briefly, fiercely, before she laid down by his side.  
   
He turned his head toward her, found her looking up. Though it was still early, stars were starting to shine and without parasite lights, they shone brighter than ever.  
"You okay ?" he asked, seeking her hand.  He grabbed it and held it firmly. She squeezed his hand back and met his gaze.  
"Yeah. Snow is awesome !"  
"Maybe we could go skiing one day ?" he suggested. Sean had gone with his wife in one of the stations around Vancouver, and had a great time. He could ask him for addresses.  
"That'd be great," Em replied before getting to her feet and giving him a hand to get up.  
  
They walked back inside, and the welcome heat turned the snow on them to water. They got rid of their wet coats, boots, and pants.  
"Oh it smells good !" she exclaimed before starting to heat the pasta again.  
  
Bobby was sure she was being nice but anything with her was good anyway. Emilie fixed them two plates once it was warm and they ate, on the couch in front of the bright ambers of the fireplace, ignoring the table.  
"You received the proposition for the convention in Paris ?" she asked.  
Bobby searched his memory, chewing a macaroni thoughtfully. "No..?"  
"My agent said they contacted the whole cast, though."  
  
He remembered suddenly his agent telling him to check an email he had sent.  
"Yeah. Didn't read the email, though."  
  
Bobby's hatred of conventions was legendary. Generally, no one even proposed one but as she had said, the whole cast was invited. Of course he would refuse.  
"You, me, Paris… We could stay the whole Monday and take the last plane back to Vancouver," she offered.  
  
He had to admit it was tempting. Very tempting. The most romantic city in the world and a woman he loved to see it with.  
"I'll read the mail," he conceded.  
  
He knew Em realized he could offer nothing more for the moment, and she seemed satisfied with the answer. They finished eating in a companionable silence and she cuddled up to him. It was warm, she smelled good, he was sated…  
  
He fell asleep. 


End file.
